The Life Left Behind
by Topropeflyer
Summary: Clay Kaczmarek has been given a second chance at life, by none other Juno and the Apple. He swears he wants nothing to do with the Assassins anymore, but finds it hard to keep away from the Order entirely. When Templars slither into his life again, putting those he cares about at risk, Clay finds himself slipping back into old patterns.
1. Scheduled For Deletion

**Author's Note:**

**Since Clay is one of my favourite characters from Assassin's Creed, and since he didn't have a lot of stories about him, I figured I'd write him one! This is basically right after Revelations (duh). Not maaaaaany spoilers in here, I don't think, but tread carefully if you haven't completed Revelations yet. I hope you enjoy! **

Chapter One:

_Clay looked up to the sky as the pixels began to fade away. He extended his arms, a smile on his face. It had finally come._

_" Here it comes." Said Subject 16 to the man standing across from him. Confusion and panic was written on his face, Clay saw._

_" What is that? What's going on?!" The man yelled, looking around warily. Clay grinned again._

_" This is the end, Desmond. Scheduled for deletion!" He replied. Moments later, he ran forward, wrapping his fading arms around Desmond to keep him still. If he could hide him from the Animus long enough…_

_" What are you doing?" Desmond demanded, struggling slightly._

_" What is a man but a sum of his memories? We are the stories we live! The tales we tell ourselves!"_

_" Don't do this!" Desmond threatened. Clay stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Clay then looked at the sync-nexus gate behind Desmond._

_" I'm saving you, idiot! GO!" He snapped._

_Clay shoved him towards the nexus, becoming aware that most of him had already disappeared._

_" GO!" He screamed as the last pieces of him faded. Desmond paused, turning around. Clay wanted to scream at him, to keep moving forward before he screwed up everything. Clay couldn't. He was only a few pixels now. Then there was nothing. He had been deleted._

* * *

Clay was aware of water soon enough as his consciousness began to clear. He felt his chest move and he began to breathe. However, it wasn't the emptiness he was used to. He could _taste _the air he was breathing. He opened his eyes, shuffling slowly and groggily. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes.

It seemed to be night; the starts shining brightly in the blackened sky. Clay couldn't remember the last time he saw stars like this. Realizing he was leaning on something cold and hard, he looked over his shoulder. What he saw was a startling sight. A square tombstone, with carvings engraved on it. A grave.

Clay jumped up, his heart racing. He backed away from the resting place, pausing, trying to calm his beating heart. Clay stared at the grave, a sense of curiosity coming over him. He crept close to the stone once again, squinting to read the name.

_Clay Kaczmerak_

_August 8, 2012_

Despite himself, Clay released a short chuckle, shaking his head. He couldn't believe it. His body was six feet under…yet here he was? He looked around the hollow graveyard, wondering where exactly he was. Clay thought he had been deleted. In fact, he was almost certain. He turned around to start walking, to where, he had no idea, but was stopped dead in his tracks by a familiar face.

" Juno." He breathed, looking up at the figure. She was ghastly white, hovering above the ground. She looked the same as the last time he saw her, which now seemed centuries ago to Subject 16, when his sanity was crumbling to nothing.

Clay's attention was brought to a object in her hand. Was that the Apple? Clay wasn't sure.

" You have fulfilled your tasks. Desmond Miles has received your message." Juno said in her hypnotic voice. Clay didn't answer, but continued to stand and stare.

" Where am I?" He finally asked, eying the Apple in her hands.

" As a reward for your sacrifices, I have sent you here. You are back in this wasteland you call home." She looked around distastefully, as if adding to her point. Clay frowned, looking around. Home? Where was his home? He could scarcely remember anymore. He looked over his shoulder, trying to chart a course.

Clay turned around once again, to speak with the Juno, the One Who Came Before.

" But I-"

She had disappeared, leaving nothing to suggest she had been there in the first place. Clay, realizing he was on his own, began to walk away from his grave.

" A fresh beginning?" He said to himself. He liked the idea, but how successful would it be? Was this even real?

Clay didn't want to think that Juno was lying to him. She hadn't before this, but it seemed to good to be true.

" Just take it, Clay." He said. " It can't be that bad."

* * *

Home to Clay was a quite suburban town outside of New York. Although, not anymore, Clay thought solemnly. He couldn't go back home. If his family was there, surely he could not show his face. They'd think he was dead, or just disappeared. Would the Kaczmerak family care to see their son again? Clay felt a pang of sadness as he thought of the answer.

The sun began to rise as Clay walked about, trying to clear his mind. However, he was becoming increasingly aware of his newfound hunger and chills.

_All human qualities_, thought Clay happily. He really had returned. _What year is it? What month_? He thought suddenly.

As people began to stir from their homes, he figured it was fall, perhaps nearing winter. People dashed about with hands and gloves, thick jackets. Clay looked down to his regular jeans and shirt, looking rather strange. Clay soon found himself in his old childhood town, although it looked nothing like it did when he was a kid. It was busier, with larger buildings. Apartment towers had sprung up everywhere like moles, along with stores and the population that followed. Clay was shivering now as he walked, his hands numb to the bone. He found a small coffee, smelling the caffeine from outside. Even though he had nothing but the clothes on his back, he entered and accepted the warmth of the inside. He found a table in the back, sitting down, resting his head in his hands. He was content to just fall asleep there and then. He lapsed into a silence, his thoughts taking over.

_Truths: I was trapped in Abstergo and committed suicide with a ballpoint pen. I was in the Black Room and saved Desmond Miles. I am Clay Kaczmerak, Subject 16 and I am an Assassin. _

He thought about William and the Order, giving himself a headache as he did so. Although, interrupting his thoughts, a voice came out of the blue.

" Hi, I'm Lucy. Can I get you anything."

Clay turned his head, to spy a small brown headed girl. The girl couldn't of been more than 19.

" No, no. I'm just warming up." Clay said quietly. His heart tugged at the mention of Lucy, but quickly shoved the feelings aside. She was a traitor and a rat and nothing more.

" It's brutal outside, huh." She agreed, looking outside the large windows. Looking back to Clay, she said, " Well, if you need anything, just give me a shout."

She began to walk away, leaving Clay to his thoughts once more. A while later, someone dropped a newspaper on the end of his table, stirring Clay from his half-sleeping state. He leaned over and reached for it, eyeing the front cover. It read:

'GLOBAL WARMING? WINTER SEASONS AT HIGHEST TEMPERATURE SINCE 1923'

Clay leafed through the newspaper, seeing nothing of interest. What had he even expected? He folded up the newspaper once again, but paused at the date.

_October 16th, 2012._

That startled Clay. Had it really been a full month since his suicide? It had felt much longer.

Clay found his mind drifting to the Assassins again. What were they doing? Last time he received an update, the Assassin's numbers were down and spread widely across the globe, with only little pocket of Assassins.

That was a choice to make, Clay gathered. Would he go back to the Assassins? After all that he'd been through, Clay felt as if he just wanted a break from that life. Maybe to leave it behind him all together.

Then it came. The splitting pain inside his skull.

" Now?" He growled under his breath, massaging his temples. The damned Bleeding Effect even followed him here? He glanced up, seeing that the new world he had woken up to had disappeared once again. Taking a deep breath, he waited for his ancestor's memory to pass. He vaguely remembered it to be Ezio's, when he was a young man. What was the name of his girlfriend at the time? Caterina? Christina? Something like that. When the memory faded, he found it easier to focus. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, taking deep breathes through clenched teeth.

He hated the Bleeding Effect. Clay fully blamed Lucy for it too. She hadn't meant to cause him so much pain, Clay thought most of the time. Other times he thought it a lie. Although, without Lucy's betrayal, he wouldn't of helped Desmond.

There's another thought. Where was Desmond now? Had he been able to go through the sync nexus after the deletion? Clay could only hope. Clay stood to leave the warmth of the small shop, deep in thought. He had a tough choice to make.

The Order was all he had ever known for the longest of times but he had to leave. Even if he did stay, would he find his old team again? Another Assassin? He had heard rumours before his suicide that the Assassins were falling. If that were true, would he be able to survive it?

_Tough choices to make indeed, _Clay thought to himself. And he would have to make them soon.


	2. To Be Cured

**A/N: Sorry it's short... they'll get longer. Also thanks to the reviewers and favourites. Best start to story for me, ever. Didn't know how many fans Clay had. Well, he is the amazing Subject 16...**

Chapter Two:

Just under a month had passed since Clay chose the simpler life. He had forged his new life from nothing and managed to keep a job as a mechanic, fixing cars in a back ally. He lived on premises of the job, but now that winter rolled it, it was rather uncomfortable. The cold became unbearable at night and the little money the job gave didn't seem worth it. Clay longed to go out and get another a job, a worthy career, but he constantly reminded himself why he was living like this. He didn't know who was coming after him, who was looking.

" You're paranoid, Clay." He told himself as he lifted a wrench off of the concrete floor.

" What was that?" Came Max, one of his colleges. Normally Clay worked alone in the separate garage, but today he wasn't so lucky.

" Nothing." He called back, sighing. He didn't like Max. Nor any of the other people he worked with now that he thought about it. They were simple-minded and idiotic in his eyes.

He finished his last task quickly and stood up, covered in dirt and grease.

" Done already?" Max asked sceptically. Clay forgot that they were also judgemental. Biting on his tongue to keep in a comment, he cleaned up his space quickly and efficiently. He climbed metal stairs to the loft of the shop, ripping of his work clothes. He went to his normal attire; jeans and blue and brown shirt. He liked the comfort of the familiar clothes, seeing as everything else was different to him. It was nearing five o'clock in the evening and Clay wasn't sure he wanted to stay here for the rest of the night. He was here most of the time already. He decided to go to that coffee shop; he ventured there quite often, just to sit and think about his next plan of action. He headed back down the stairs, taking a short cut through the garage.

" Hey!" Yelled Max. Clay sighed and turned around slowly, wondering what this imbecile wanted.

" You forgot to check the brakes on the Ford!" He growled.

There were a few reasons why Clay didn't like Max. For one, he pushed his weight around and forced fear into the other workers, who (by some miracle) were even less intelligent than Max was. And then there was the actual subject of intellect.

Max didn't seem to possess any.

Clay forced his reply to be polite. " I gave the task to Ron."

Max glowered in return, " I said for you to do it."

" Well, I'm off-shift now. I'll do it tomorrow." Clay replied. Max wasn't pleased, not the slightest.

" I don't care if you're 'off-shift'. I want it done this second."

Clay could feel his temper rising and so he commanded himself to calm.

" I'll do it tomorrow, I refuse to do it now. Besides, the guy who dropped it off isn't coming back for it until Thursday. It doesn't take four days to check brakes."

Max started forward, ready to throw his weight around like routine.

" I'm telling you to do it now." He snarled. Clay uncurled his balled fists. It took a lot to make him angry, but Max seemed to be able to snap his temper in half in seconds.

" I said, I'll do it tomorrow!" Clay nearly yelled, gathering the attention of the workers who were sitting about. He glanced to them out of the corner of his eye, but kept his attention focused on Max. He was unpredictable. Suddenly, a shadow slithered out into the light.

" Ladies, ladies. Let's all calm down. We're friends here!" Said Raphael. Clay took a few steps backwards away from Max as the man came forward. Out of everyone here in the filthy garage, Raphael was at the top of Clay's list of 'do not trust'. It was something about his sly smile and greased back black hair that just gave Clay the chills.

" I'm not doing it tonight." Clay said with a tone to his voice that meant the discussion was over. Max's jaw clenched, his own hands in fists. Truth be told, Clay wouldn't mind of throwing a few punches his way. Although, he had been trained to leave innocents be. Clay cursed himself for still following the Creed that he left behind weeks ago. He didn't want to, but the ethic and morals stuck with him. He guessed it wasn't all bad. Three tenants couldn't ruin his Order-free life forever, couldn't they? He started down the ally as he navigated his way to the shop. Once inside, he made his way to his favourite spot in the corner, where no one looked.

Despite being around people for a month now, Clay still wasn't used to human contact completely. He liked the quiet and peace that being alone brought him. It reminded him of the Black Room and the sound of waves of the simulated island. His old life that he couldn't leave behind.

" Can I get you anything?" Came the voice of a server. Clay didn't even look her in the eye, just waved her away. She walked away with a puff.

Clay didn't mean to be so rude, but he was lapsing into his depression again. Yet another thing that kept creeping up from behind. Taking a relaxing breath, he reached forward for the newspaper close by. He scanned the pointless stories and editorials, rather unimpressed. He flipped through the black and white pages until he came to the classifieds at the end.

There were a few jobs available, but none that really stood out to Clay. He was loosing hope fast as he was on the last page. He scanned over a few ads, 'New Roommate Wanted.'

As he read on, he realized he needed either an e-mail or phone number. Two things he didn't have, nor have plans to gain.

Time moved on, and so Clay took that as his cue to leave his little quiet place. When he finally left, it had become dark, casting a shadow in the streets. Clay was attacked by the coldness that early December brought. As he headed back to the garage, hands buried in his pockets, he thought about investing his money in a jacket. Strange how he hadn't done so already.

His mind wandered as it normally did. To people he once knew and events that had occurred. As always, Desmond lingered in his mind. It seemed to be a dream now, all the events he had lived through. It was hard to tell himself that they happened. He wondered where Desmond was now exactly.

Clay rounded a bend, glancing over his shoulder. He was surprised to see a figure lurking behind. In seconds his heart was pounding, his wild thought getting the better of him. He tried to tell himself that he wasn't being followed. He was dead to the world. However, he still quickened his pace and kept walking, occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

Clay barely noticed he was murmuring to himself until his voice was louder than necessary. His thoughts has also distracted him until he was completely lost. Looking over his shoulder again, spying the figure down the street. He decided to play it safe, quickly ducking down an alley . He jogged to the end, facing a brick wall. He looked to the sides of the ally. Two larger buildings with lots of foot and hand holds. Without another thought he ran towards the wall, kicking off of it and grabbing onto the ledge. He hauled himself up, his muscles straining as he did so. He crept along the narrow wall, heading to the building to his left, allowing himself to climb up and escape. Clinging to the wall, gusts of winter wind threatening to send him to the ground, Clay looked down to the ground, seeing no one in the darkness. He wanted to climb right back down and go to his pathetic loft above the garage, but instead he kept climbing. Why? He couldn't tell you.

Breathless, he hauled himself on top of the tall building, his arms almost giving way. He collapsed onto the roof, cursing himself for allowing him to get this out of shape so quickly.

" I swear I'll never eat anything unhealthy again." He told himself, a small flash of a smile coming across his mouth. After, he remembered why he was up here, so he stood up and walked to the edge of the building. He was too high to see a damn thing at the bottom, but somehow he felt a bit safer up here. He looked around and found a ladder on the other side of the flat roof. Walking towards it, he thought about how natural it was to scale a building that most people shouldn't be able to…

Shaking his head violently, clearing his head, he descended down the ladder. The damn Order was like a disease he couldn't get rid of. It was incurable.

Later that night, laying in bed shivering as the cold seeped into his skin, Clay started to think. He always thought about things, whether he could help it or not. It seemed to distract him from reality, allow him to drift in peace.

_The incurable disease_, thought Clay.

It wasn't incurable. He would just have to find a vaccine.


	3. Black and White Pages

**A/N: Sorry for the pause... apparently having several stories on the go and muses that love to destroy one another isn't a good idea... oh well. Here's that update. Thanks to the reviewers as well. I really do appreciate it. **

Chapter Three:

Clay had enough. Last night was the worst night by far in the garage's loft and he vowed not to stay another night. The windows had frosted over and he swore the floor had too. Clay had woke up in shivers ands shakes, which was the final straw for him. He was making himself a new a life and this was all he could do? He refused to accept it. He could do better, surely? As he began to get dressed, all the while massaging warmth into his limbs, he decided he'd take an afternoon off to look for better housing. He looked to his tiny room with distaste. Clay was only just able to stand up in the dusty room, the wooden floor boards looking as though they were about to peel from the floor themselves and run away. The windows were barely see-through anymore and were cracked and chipped from previous residents. Clay didn't even want to think about who had been here before him. With a sigh, he finished dressed. Yes, that was what he'd do. Go find a better home for the time being.

Clay headed down stairs to start his work, bee lining for the single garage. He hoped that no one booked it for today. He didn't want to face Max today. Or Raphael now that he thought about it. He still didn't trust those black beady little eyes…

* * *

Work passed by Clay quickly since he managed to snag the single garage. Of course he had to slither his way inside, outsmarting Ron to take it from him. Although Clay couldn't really call it outsmarting… not when the rats in alley that they were located in had more IQ points. The entire time Clay was working, images of a warm place to sleep lingered in his mind. He counted up his savings of salaries past and found that he could rent a cheap place to live until he rooted himself in a better job position. Clay did not plan to stay here in this little rat hole any longer than what was absolutely necessary.

He snuck away from his work about an hour earlier than his scheduled end. He made his way to that coffee shop he seemed to love so much. However, like most of his trips, he didn't buy anything or eat anything. He did not come to think either. He came for the newspaper. He recalled seeing something about a rental in there and if true, he figured that starting his house hunt there would be a good choice. Clay headed over to the table, rifling through the stack of papers. He wasn't too disappointed when he couldn't find what he was looking for, but was a bit miffed on the fact it would take extra effort to find it. He went up to the counter, considering no one was ordering and motioned for a member of the staff. It was that Lucy girl. He talked to her a little bit on his good days. She seemed cheerful enough but Clay couldn't say he liked her really.

" Do you have yesterday's paper?" He asked. Lucy shook her head.

" Just took out the recycling. I'm sorry!"

Clay was pretty sure she wasn't and was just being polite. He sighed and thought of the next place to go for the paper. He left the shop, having a place in mind. He knew where it might be…

* * *

As he entered the garage, his eyes scanning for the newspaper, he saw that all the workers had gathered around Raphael. At first, he thought there was an accident but instead the idiots were all snickering at something. Clay walked up to the mob of about six or seven, wondering what was going on. As he elbowed his way in, he found Raphael holding open a newspaper, laughing at something. His voice was like razor blades and his laugh even worse. Spotting Clay, the greasy little man abruptly folded up the newspaper, tucking it under his arm.

" Ah, Clay. I want you to work on fixing that Audi over there." He said quickly, pointing to a sleek black car. Clay frowned.

" That was Harry's project." Clay replied carefully. Raphael rolled his eyes, as if he knew something Clay didn't.

" It's yours now." He said, his voice lower than before. Clay stiffened, his anger floating up to the surface. He forced it away, knowing better than to lose his temper. Especially over Raphael.

" You have no authority." Clay said.

Raphael stood, matching Clay's height. He stepped close, leaving no space between them. In a matter of seconds the aura of a challenge filled the air. Clay was close to starting the fight himself.

" Actually, Clay…" Raphael said his name like it was some sort of joke. " If you hadn't skipped out on work, you would know that I have been promoted to the manager of this building."

Clay stared at him, a scowl on his face.

" That translates into this: his word is law." Growled Max from behind Clay. Clay took a deep, calming breath. It was no use hitting him, not with Max lurking about. The other workers started to disband when Clay made no reply. They all started to filter out, but Raphael was the last one to leave. He put the paper on a tool chest, saying with a smug grin, " Oh… and the owner is coming around tomorrow morning."

Clay could feel his fingers twitch at that one.

* * *

With dirt covered hands, he pushed his hair back. This car was beyond repair. He had tried everything in the book. The idiot who got into the crash had bent all the metalwork inward, making the suspension nearly impossible to get to without slicing open his hands. Not to mention he also had the fuel filters to replace and the ignition to fix. Clay sat on the cold floor, scrubbing the grime off of his hands with a ratted towel laying near by. He looked at the time on his clock and nearly groaned. It was nearly midnight. He looked to where the newspaper was. In the past long, gruelling hours, it seemed all he could think about was that newspaper. But if this damned car was due in the next few hours…

Clay stood up and headed to the tool chest, releasing a loud yawn. He brought the paper close to him, eyeing the date. It was the one he needed!

" I wouldn't do that. You have only a few hours left." Came a voice. In a beat Clay's heart jumped, his right arm becoming tense. He looked down to his lower arm.

_The weapon is no longer there, you fool_, Clay snarled to himself. He spun in a slow circle, looking for the voice. He soon spotted Raphael, standing close by. He stared at him, his eyes narrowing slightly.

" What are you doing here?" He asked, Clay's voice nearly a growl. Raphael lifted his head up in a snobbish manner.

Raphael replied, " I do not trust you. Not the slightest."

He left then, earning him glares from Clay with his back was turned. Clay then got back to work, rubbing his tired eyes. However, that newspaper was still on his mind.

Nearly three hours later, Clay was close to finished but exhausted. Grease seemed to be stained on his hands permanently, his clothes the same way. He was ready to fall asleep in a heap but he did not. He had one more thing to check over…

There. He was finally done. He slammed the hood of the car down, his eyes burning. He packed away his tools, turned off all the lights and as he passed, snatching up the newspaper. It would be his only reward for this punishment. Clay made his way up the stairs to his pathetic excuse for a room and offered himself some clean clothes. Once dressed, he crashed onto his bed, opening up the newspaper. He rummaged through the papers until he found his way to the ad he was after.

_Roomate Needed. Any age. _

_Contact Rue at either… _

Clay frowned when he realized he would need an e-mail or phone, still. Frowning still, he read the address. It seemed to be in a good neighbourhood and not from here. Perhaps if he could go in person and explain his circumstances, they would understand? He thought about it for a while, exploring each pro and con. Eventually, his eyes began to feel heavy. He sent himself to bed, coming to a conclusive decision.

* * *

After earning no sleep due to restless dreams, Clay trudged down to the garage. The Audi he was assigned to fix had thankfully left the garage, meaning no extra work.

" I have to say, Clay, you did a good job." Came a voice. Clay turned to see Raphael trailed by Max. Clay definitely did not want to deal with these two today, and especially not now. However, they stayed at a distance. Suddenly, the newspaper article came into his mind.

" Do you mind if I take this afternoon off?" Clay asked carefully, watching Raphael's face closely. The man cocked an eyebrow.

" And why would you want today off, when you skipped yesterday? You know, I really should fire you for that…" He let his sentence trail off. Clay didn't reply. Raphael cracked his knuckles loudly, looking up to Max.

" What do you say? Should we give him the time off?" He asked his brute. Max looked at Clay suspiciously.

" Where are you going?" The muscular beast asked. Clay hardened his features.

" Does it matter where I am going?" Clay questioned. Raphael put on his slimy smirk.

" I suppose it does. I just want to make sure you won't get into any trouble." He replied. Clay rolled his eyes.

" Since when do you care what I do?" He fired back.

" Since I've taken an interest in your habits."

Taken aback, Clay paused.

" Well, can I have the afternoon off or not?" Clay asked. Raphael waved his hand towards the door and Clay took that as his leave to go.

* * *

The apartment building was a fifteen minute walk from Clay's work and the neighbourhood seemed nice enough. He only hoped that this person he was supposed to meet was understanding of his sudden appearance. He saw the building just up ahead, the glass door slowly swinging shut. He sprinted forward, catching the door at the last second, slithering inside. He glanced to his piece of paper with the apartment details and started up the stairs, trying to think of what he was going to say. The climb was short lived and before he knew it, he was standing in front of a dark wood door. Clay paused however, hearing music coming from behind the door. Taking a deep breath, Clay knocked on the door. No reply came. He knocked again.

" HOLD ON A SECOND!" Came an angered yell. Confused, Clay took a step backward. Moments later, the door was flung open.

A woman stood before him; average height, long black hair, pale skin and a lean figure. She seemed slightly on the ferocious side, the way she was scowling - although not at him, a TV on the other side of the room- and dressed in all black. Her shirt even had a creature on it. Clay figured it was a band shirt, with the label 'Iron Maiden' on it in red. Clay had heard of the band once or twice, never gave it any thought. She also had on a leather jacket, black jeans with beaten up converse on her feet. She was staring at a TV with a fierce look, in her hands a black game controller. She hadn't even glanced to Clay yet, too preoccupied with the TV across the room, deep inside her apartment. Her face contorted into rage. She threw the controller across the room with a snarl, the remote landing on the couch silently. She turned to Clay fully now, leaning on the door frame. She folded her arms over her chest, watching Clay carefully.

" I'm here about the room?" Clay told her, waving the ad he had brought along. At first confusion came across her face, but then understanding. Her hard expression softened.

" Damn… I forgot about that." She said. She opened up the door, flicking on lights as he entered. Always aware, Clay took in his surroundings. It was a small apartment but very clean and tidy. Save the couch… pillows were scattered everywhere, along with remotes and wires.

" Is the room still available?" Clay asked as he stood near the door. The lady nodded.

" It is. I gave up hope on people though." She said. She sat down on her couch, looking Clay over. " And why is that you couldn't e-mail me or God forbid, call me."

She was a sarcastic one, Clay noted.

" I have neither. So I thought it be best I come in person." Clay explained. The woman nodded.

" Your name, if I may ask?" She asked.

" Clay Kaczmarek." He replied. The woman nodded, a half smile on her face.

" Rowan Youngblood." She said.

" Rowan?" Clay asked before he could help himself.

" My theory is that my parents hated me as a child, thus named me Rowan. My shorter name is Rue." She replied, her half smile turning into a smirk.

" So what are the regulations?" Clay asked, looking about the open room that served as a kitchen and living room.

Rue shuffled about, getting comfortable. " Well… just help me pay rent. Seven hundred a month for this place, as shocking as it may be. I like this place and I don't want to be evicted."

Clay nodded in understanding.

" Your room is over there." Rue said, pointing to a door beside the kitchen. " It's only small, but I think it should suffice."

" It'll be better than what I have now, believe me." Clay murmured.

" Why, where do you live now?" Rue asked.

" I love on premises of my work-"

Rue grimaced without further explanation.

" Say no more my friend. Been there, done that, not going back!"

Clay allowed himself to laugh.

" So when do you think I could move in?" Clay asked, hoping it wasn't too sudden.

Rue gave a nervous laugh. " Uh, soon. I hope. My rent's due in a few weeks and I am very far behind."

" I'll bring my stuff up soon, I guess. How little of it." Clay released his own smirk.

Rue nodded. " Sounds good to me!"

He showed himself to the door, Rue lingering behind. Clay honestly hadn't expected it to go so smooth and easy. He guessed Rue was in the same situation he was, in a way. He thought about her as he headed back to his old loft. She seemed an alright character. Innocent enough for Clay. He would just have to see how things went from here.


	4. According to the Plan

Chapter Four:

To state that Clay was a happy man was an understatement. He buzzed with excitement as he threw the little things he had into a bag, all the while humming the tune of a song he had long since forgotten the name of. He slept well last night for a change too, which most likely helped spike his mood into this joyous feeling he felt. Clay marvelled at the fact it was all because of one tiny woman. Well, it wasn't her completely. Her warm apartment also aided to the cause. Now that he thought about it, the fact that he had a day off today and the following day was also another reason to be happy. Clay chuckled to himself as he recalled reasons for his happiness.

Soon, all of Clay's things had been packed and he set off to go settle into his new, also temporary, home. As he walked down the street, he wondered what he would think of Rue and what Rue would think of him. She seemed normal enough, despite the large amount of black clothing she wore and her aggressive attitude. Clay looked down at himself. Was he normal to her? His simple jeans, brown shirt and white shoes he's worn since the dawn of time didn't give off any reason to think otherwise. Suddenly, a dark feeling swelled up inside of him. Perhaps there was something in his personality? Something that made people wary of who he really was. Had he accidentally retained ways of thinking and addressing people from his old life? Clay thought of events where he had been too silent around people or just odd to them. He couldn't think of any particular scenario or even any people who reacted strangely around him. Well, Raphael was one. The dark feeling Clay felt before thickened like fog laying low on a river. Had Raphael noticed something? Was that the reason he seemed to hate Clay so much? Not before long, Clay's mind began to take hold of his logical thinking. With a shake of his head, the former Assassin dismissed all fears and thoughts lingering in his head. He was a perfectly normal human being and there was nothing wrong with him. Or so he tried to tell himself.

* * *

Knocking on Rue's door like he had done the day before, he waited for the little woman to answer. After a moment of time had passed she did appear before him, her attire similar to that she wore yesterday. This time around, she wore no leather jacket but still wore one of her band shirts, although the band had switched to one called Slayer. Despite barely knowing her, the title seemed to fit her attitude. Rue also wore black yoga pants and the same converse as yesterday.

" Hey!" She greeted. One thing that did change about the woman was her demeanour to Clay. She seemed a little less standoffish and a little more open, but not by much. Clay could still see that he was a stranger to her.

_And why should I be any different? _he asked himself. The little woman dressed in black cleared the way and allowed him to enter.

" That's it?" Rue asked, concerning Clay's small bag. He gave a shrug, not sure how to reply.

_Say something, Clay!_

Clay had lapsed into silence once again.

" Thank you." Was all he said.

Rue rose a brow. " For what? Letting you live here for a while? Believe me, it's not you who should be saying thanks. More like me." She said, with a childish grin on her face.

" My room is back here?" Clay asked, looking over his shoulder. Rue nodded.

" Yep! Go make yourself comfortable and if you want, you can join me if you like." She offered. Clay started off towards his bedroom.

" Strange having people around again." Rue murmured to herself. Clay could easily relate.

Clay's new bedroom was everything he could of ever asked for. A double bed and a heating that actually worked and not to mention. It was a bonus that he had a desk for writing and a closet for his things. Clay took a moment to think. Had he really been in such awful conditions that this simple room was a palace to him? He noticed that Rue had cleaned the room up for him, shortly before he arrived. Clay could smell artificial pine forests in the air. His desk was glossy and still wet, seeing that Rue had wiped it down. The bed was made too, the sheets having a fresh smell. His vision flickered suddenly and Clay's reaction was to quickly shake his head. He would _not_ enter his sixth sense. He would not be reminded of his lineage. Not now, not ever. To distract himself, Clay went to the box he had brought and went through his things. Clothes, books, a few items he had picked up on his travels as a normal human being. Clay sighed however when he came to a box. He opened it, eyeing the weapon inside.

How had he even found it?

Without any warning, Clay's closed door swung open, causing him to throw his clothes over that damned box. Clay spun around, eyeing Rue carefully. She stood in the door way, a slight frown on her face.

" Sorry, did I startle you?" She asked.

" Truthfully, I am not used to people being around." Clay replied, slightly defensive.

" I'll knock next time." Rue replied sharing Clay's tone.

Clay waited for her to continue.

" All I wanted to know was when can you give me your half of the rent? It's not much, just 350 a month. Can you scrape that together?" She asked. Clay nodded, knowing he was full well capable. Rue nodded, seeming pleased and then left. Only she popped her head back into the room.

" One more thing!" She said. " Do you want Chinese food for dinner? My treat!"

Clay smiled, but quickly wiped it off his face. " Sure, that's fine."

Rue left for good, singing some song as she went. Clay laughed at how normal and innocent she seemed. The complete opposite of Clay.

With a sigh, Clay went back to the box that was now hiding under his piles of clothes. Deciding that he didn't want to see it ever again, he bundled it up and went to this closet of his. He tucked the box into the darkest corner of the closet, vowing not to touch it ever again.

* * *

Clay did go join Rue in the living room later that evening. She had ordered Chinese food and the smell of it filled the air, causing Clay's stomach to growl.

" Help yourself." Rue said with a full mouth, and as she remembered her manors, covered her mouth with a slight laugh. " Sorry."

Clay smiled himself, grabbing a plate from the table and forking food onto it. He hadn't noticed his hunger before, but now it was apparent. He sat down on the couch beside Rue, placing distance between them for the comfort of all. Rue was watching a TV show, not one Clay recognized. However, she quickly muted it and turned to face him.

" Can I ask you a few questions?" She asked him. Clay fought the urge to say no and storm away in defence.

" Sure." Was his reply. " What do you want to know?"

" For one, your age? Maybe where you went to school? I don't know. It's like a criminal check by investigated by myself." She said with a laugh, humouring herself.

" Well, I'm twenty nine. Went to school and some engineering school-"

" Oh cool! What do you do now then?" Rue asked. Clay noted that she was much more social than him, but in a way that made her seem anti-social at the same time. He was not entirely sure how this woman worked.

" Right now? I work as a mechanic."

Rue eyed the TV as she replied, " That can't be too bad?"

Clay didn't give an answer.

" What about yourself?" He said instead, wanting to know more about her just as much as she wanted to know more about him.

" You know my name… uh. Where do I start?" She pondered. " Well, I'm Rue Youngblood. Obviously. I'm born and raised in Canada but moved here about ten years ago for school and a few other reasons."

" A Canadian?" Clay asked. He wasn't entirely interested by the fact, but decided to keep a conversation going with her.

" Yeah! Born in Toronto!" She said with a sense of pride.

" What do you do?"

Rue rolled her eyes as she spoke. " I work many jobs, truth be told. I'm working to get my doctors degree in sports injuries and how to treat them. You know, that sort of thing? I teach as a coach for the local little kid's hockey team around here. Although, I'm more a second-coach and work bi-weekly on that job. I also work down at a funereal home a few blocks away from here. Some minor jobs at the council office…"

" You're everywhere." Clay took note. Rue nodded.

" It wears me out."

" And yet you can't pay for rent with all that?" Clay questioned. The black haired woman shot him a look that wasn't at all friendly.

" You try paying down student debt and living in a place like this!" She growled. Clay held his hands up in submission. He hadn't realized he had offended her. Instead, he moved onward to a topic she'd be more comfortable with.

" So clearly, you like music." He said. Rue looked down at her shirt and nodded. The smile she wore often was back on her face and any signs of her anger had vanished in a heartbeat.

" Yep! From Metallica and Megadeth to Iron Maiden and Slayer. All things in between too."

Clay wished he had heard of these bands before, to find common ground with Rue, but she was the north pole and he the south, different in every aspect. After that, the two lapsed into a silence. Clay was thankful for it. Once he had eaten and put his plate in the sink, he left to the peacefulness of his room. He rested on his nice and warm bed, looking up to the ceiling. Finally comfortable after god knows how long of misery in the loft, Clay could finally call himself happy.

Although, he couldn't call himself happy for long.

Being in this environment made him think of something he gave up long ago. Chance at family and friends and a normal life. Although he was trying to piece that back together now, he wondered what life would have been like if he avoided the Order all together. Would he still have contact with his mother? Would his father still be around if he attended the engineering school his Dad wanted him to go all along? These questions tugged at Clay's heart strings. There will always be a 'what if' in life, never any truths, Clay began to see.

* * *

Arguing with himself for all these hours was giving Clay a headache. No… it wasn't a headache. It was more a migraine than anything. A skull-splitting irritation that would not leave him. It was nearing midnight and Clay still hadn't decide if he should try contact.

It was risky, he knew all too well but a small phone call to his mother would not hurt… Did he even still have the number? 34? 43? Clay could vaguely remember that being the end numbers. He would like to talk to his mother once again. For closure if nothing else. He left her in such a bad way. The blonde shuddered at the thought of the last e-mail he received from her while being trapped in Abstergo as a prisoner. Eventually, Clay made up his mind and dragged himself from his bed. Leaving his room and shuffling past the kitchen into the living room, Clay was half surprised to find Rue still awake, sprawled across the entire couch despite her small figure, with a game remote in hand.

" Don't you have work tomorrow?" He asked, looking down at her. The grunt that came as a reply was just that- a grunt.

" Mmm. Eight hours." She garbled, yawning wildly afterward. Something told Clay that she wouldn't be sleeping any time soon either. Clay paused before he spoke after, not wanting to disturb the woman.

" Do you have a phone, by any chance?"

" Landline? Sure. Next to the fridge." Rue replied, not even looking at Clay. She was far too preoccupied with her game.

" Thank you."

Clay went over to where the phone was, taking it in his hands. Did he really want to do this? Before he started to argue with himself once more, Clay began to dial his mother's number. He prayed she hadn't changed it since, or she would be long lost to him. He entered his room as he pressed the phone to his ear, praying he would hear a familiar voice on the other end.

All he got was a monotone drone.

" The person you have tried calling is unavailable right now, please leave a message at the tone."

Suddenly conflicted, Clay wondered if he should leave a message.

_This wasn't apart of the plan! _He growled to himself. But plans could always change. Breaking out of his decision making time, a tone sounded.

" Uh, hello… mother." He started awkwardly. " It's Clay… listen, I'll call back another time if I get around to it."

He took a long pause, gathering both his emotions and his mind. He wanted to say more! He wanted to tell her that he really did miss her… but before he could say such a thing, he hung up. Clay sat himself on the end of his bed, playing with the phone in his hand.

" That wasn't so successful." He told himself lowly. Accepting defeat, Clay quickly returned the phone to it's place and sent himself off to bed, quickly falling asleep.

It was a step forward, he thought to himself as he lulled himself into unconsciousness. A good step and one that he would work with to keep going forward in this life of his. That was if everything went according to plan.


	5. Stories We Tell Ourselves

**A/N: So this is a dialogue heavy chapter and mostly just a filler. I know the story has been fairly uneventful so far, but I promise, once the build up is completed and a few things brought into the story, The Life Left Behind will be much more fascinating. I do thank you all for your patience and the lovely reviews you leave behind. Appreciated. **

Chapter Five:

It was sunlight that awoke Clay. It burned past his closed eyes as if to taunt him for sleeping for so long. Clay's night had been a peaceful one, a rare occasion for the former Assassin. He rolled onto his front, shoving the pillow into his face. Despite his discomfort, Clay managed to slowly lull himself back to sleep. That was until the responsible voice in his mind ordered him awake. Groaning as he lost the battle of wills, he pried an eye open.

" If it's past nine, I'll get up." Clay told himself, reaching for the digital clock that rested on the table beside his bed. He blindly fumbled for it, finally grabbing hold of it. He forced his head to the side and stared at the numbers glowing back at him. He almost moaned as he realized he would have to get up.

It was past nine. Way past nine… it was almost noon. He threw himself out of bed and quickly changed his clothes. When finished, he strolled into the living room of Rue's apartment. He sighed deeply and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. It felt unnatural to him to feel this way… so lazy and sluggish. Clay looked around the living room and soon found an amusing sight.

Rue was fast asleep on the couch in a most uncomfortable manner. She laid sprawled across her makeshift bed, her left arm and leg dangling over the edge, her neck so crooked that one could quiet imagine it to be broken. She took a deep breath which ended up sounded like a big snort. Clay eyed her for a moment and then thought about the time of day. She was late for work it seemed. Clay turned around and went to the kitchen to see if he could find anything for breakfast. He looked through the cupboards and the fridge, but decided on a simple apple. As he ate, a sudden thud surprised him. He looked to Rue who sat bolt upright, looking as though she'd woken from a nightmare. Clay saw that it was her game controller that caused the crash. Along with a few other remotes and wires.

" What time is it?" She asked Clay, bewildered and groggy.

" A little past noon." He replied to her simply, only to cause more panic to the woman.

" DAMN IT!" She yelled. " I'm late for work… so late for work!"

She cursed loudly before scrambling off the couch. She sprinted faster than anyone could think possible into her room. Clay listened as she threw things around in her room, only to storm right back out. Considering the wreck she had just been, Rue seemed calm as she walked back into the living room.

" I'm done! I'm going to be fired anyway, I might as well not go into work." She decided, folding her arms across her chest in a stubborn matter.

Clay emitted a chuckle, finishing off his apple in just a few more bites. He had not realized his hunger before.

" Skipping?" Clay questioned in jest. If the black haired woman had heard, she did not care to reply. Instead, she threw herself back onto her couch face first, releasing a low scream, muffled by pillows.

" Is this why you have so many jobs? Because you are unable to keep one under your belt?" Clay asked, forcing his slight smile off of his face.

He neatly dodged the pillow that was hauled his way.

Rue sat up, running her hands across her face.

Clay rested his elbows on the counter, looking to Rue. " So what are you going to do now that you are not going to work?"

Rue shrugged, looking to her TV.

" I am not sure. Sleep some more, perhaps."

Clay released slight smirk. " What would your mother say?"

" My mother?" Rue echoed, looking up as if to think. " My mother would say… well, I'm not sure. Her temperament changed so quickly…"

" Like yours?" Clay questioned. Rue turned on him quicker than a feral dog trapped in a corner.

" Are you saying I have a temper?" She snapped defensively. Clay smirked despite himself. He stayed silent.

" My mother would tell me to stop being so disorganized, but it's so hard!" Rue complained.

" I'm not so sure. Maybe you could-"

Rue stared at him, clearly unimpressed. " I do not want your opinions, Clay. I just want to sleep."

" See! That's your problem right there!" He joked. The pair lapsed into a short silence before Rue spoke.

" You know, it's not my mother I should be worried about." She confessed, turning to face Clay. She had a childish smile on her face, showing how carefree her ways were. Clay envied her and her happy-go-lucky type persona.

" Then who is it you do fear?"

The woman grinned as she replied, " My dad."

Clay waited for Rue to continue.

" You see, my dad's in the Canadian military and he's always been strict on two or three things. One was to always be organized and the other if I remember, was always have a working knowledge of how things worked."

Clay nodded, although he was more interested in the story of Rue's father.

" Canadian military? Meaning you're a Canadian family or just your dad?"

Rue's smile turned into a grin. " Yep! I was born in Vancouver."

Clay emitted a small smile of his own. " Then what made you move to Chicago?"

" Well, I moved here when I was thirteen with my mom and dad when my father finished his service with the army for the time being. I finished high school here and then went to college."

" Mind me asking, how old are you?" Clay asked. Rue feigned a hurt expression, her hand covering her mouth.

" Didn't your mother ever tell you not to ask a woman her age?"

" You didn't strike me of the type to be classified as a lady."

Clay at first thought he offended the tiny black haired woman with his comment when she didn't reply, but a few moment later she was laughing.

" I suppose I don't look the part." She said, looking to her dark attire.

" So how is your collage career going?" Clay asked, resting his elbows on the kitchen counter. An amused expression quickly came over Rue.

" I went into a Sports Athletics program… how to treat injuries and such."

" What happened?"

" I quit shortly after. It wasn't worth the huge tuition I was paying and frankly, I preferred my… other… talents."

Clay was intrigued now. " What other talents?"

She released a sly smirk, putting a finger up to her lips. Clay rose a brow, wondering what it was she was keeping secret.

" What are you hiding?" He asked in a pleasant manner, although he was becoming wary of her.

" Promise you won't tell anyone or rat me out?"

" Rat you out? To who?" He asked.

" The council or the police maybe… I don't do anything awful with my little gift, but I have the power to, I suppose-"

" The suspense is killing me!" Clay complained. Rue rolled her eyes and stood up.

" Wait here." She ordered, standing up to leave. He watched her every move with a sharp eye, watching her hands more specifically.

" You are paranoid." He told himself. This was a tiny woman after all and if anything did happen, he could easily over power her.

_Kill her, even_, a voice stated. Clay forced the thought away. He didn't mind Rue's company. Killing her would be a shame. After all, the woman had allowed Clay inside her home with no precautions taken as to who he was. Though Clay moved in without any precautions to who she was either...

Rue came back carrying a back laptop in her hands. It was rather bulky and perhaps a little outdated. She walked over to Clay and stood beside him, opening up her computer.

" Basically, I can get into any password protected program, if I get the codes right-"

" Why are you showing me this?" Clay asked, wondering how much Rue trusted him to go off explaining her skills.

" Because nobody really knows about it. I want someone to know. Besides, you don't seem like the backstabbing type." She replied. " And friends 'hack' into their friend's stuff all the time? This is a little different, is all."

Clay smirked slightly. Her image of innocence was quite amusing to him.

" What's the biggest thing you've done?" Questioned Clay, watching Rue's hand speedily dash across the keys. She paused, thinking about her answer.

" I would have to say… Well, I hacked into a few blogs. You know the kind- the whiners."

To be truthful, he didn't exactly know what she meant but he nodded despite the fact. Suddenly Rue laughed.

" I changed all their posts and the site had to shut down to check for viruses." Chuckling, she shook her head. " Those were the days."

She then closed up her computer, tucking it under her arm.

" What about you?"

" What about me?" Clay replied.

" Your family. What are they like?"

Clay frowned slightly at that, not wanting to discuss details. How could he with a chunk of the story locked away under key? The black haired woman noted the expression.

" Not a good relationship?" She asked quietly, as though people were listening in on their small conversation. Clay tried to explain his words,

" Not exactly… we've always been a distant family, I suppose you could say. Wedges thrown in here and there."

Rue nodded. " I understand. My family was like that for a while."

_But you don't understand… your little naive brain won't allow you to understand_, Clay thought.

The two lapsed into a small silence, but neither of them moved. It was strange for Clay to have company, seeing he had been locked in solitude for most his life in one form or another, but he started to wonder what Rue was like.

" My father," Clay started, unsure why he was speaking in the first place, " always wanted me to be an engineer. It runs in the Kaczmarek family of course."

Rue watched him with inquiring blue eyes. " I take it you never wanted to be an engineer?"

Clay shook his head.

" No, I never wanted to do that. It wasn't what I wanted to do."

" What was it you wanted?"

" I'm not sure anymore." Clay said. " It seems a life time ago."

Clay stopped talking, but Rue's expression showed that she wanted to hear the rest of the story. Clay almost felt inclined to tell her.

" Well, I went to an engineering school… not the one my father wanted, but still I went. I left some time after…" His sentence trailed.

" And did what? Or are you like me, trying to figure that out?" Rue heaved herself up onto the counter, sitting a few inches above of Clay.

_She really is a tiny thing… _

Clay released a small smile, shrugging. " I suppose so."

" What do you do now?"

" I work as a mechanic, if that's what you're asking."

" I tried doing that." Rue told him.

" Tried being the keyword?"

Rue smiled at that.

" What is it you do to pay half the rent?"

Clay laughed as her face dropped, clearly annoyed. She shot him a quick sneer before going back to her light-hearted self.

" I work at a small bookstore on the weekends, a funereal home midweek, an old folk's home as well-" She snorted. "- ironic, huh? I also coach hockey biweekly."

" You're busy." Clay noted.

" Not really. It's sort of a mild life I lead."

" Ever thought of finishing that Athletics Program you were talking about?" Clay asked her as Rue slid off of the counter and to the couch. She crashed onto it loudly, not at all with grace.

" I think about it. Probably won't do it." She replied, sounding tired all of a sudden. Clay moved from the kitchen, thinking of going to his room or if he felt daring enough, to go outside for a walk in the open.

" Wanna watch TV?" Called Rue as he turned for his little room. Clay turned.

" I think I'll just go outside." He denied her invitation, earning a snort from her as he turned his back. He turned round again, raising a brow.

" What?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

" Mr. Clay is too antisocial to watch TV?" She taunted. He rolled his eyes and was about to go to his room until something caught his attention.

" … solar electromagnetic field forming around the earth."

Clay headed over to the TV, sitting himself down beside Rue.

" Changed your mind-?" She begin to jest before Clay silenced her. She was not impressed by the act but did not challenge it either.

" Scientists say it is merely caused by the sun- but others are calling it the end of the world. Back to you, Darcy."

" Damn it." Clay growled. He wished he had heard the story from the beginning.

" Nonsense." Rue said from beside Clay. " No such thing as the end of the world. Sure, it'll burn out slowly but human will long since be an erased species when it does happen."

Clay wasn't so sure… after all, Juno had sent him to Desmond.

" Desmond!" Clay suddenly called aloud, though he had not meant to.

" Who?" Asked Rue, looking to Clay. Swearing under his breath he ignored her and stood up.

" Hello? Am I just a wall to you?" Rue demanded. She did not like to be ignored.

" He's nobody." Clay covered up, cursing himself for being so reckless. He had to keep Desmond covered up. Even if he had already sacrificed himself for Subject Seventeen, he still had to help him anyway he could. He was an Assassin after all.

_Stop it Clay!_ He yelled at himself. _You are not an Assassin. You are not an Assassin. _

He repeated the words in his head until he thought them true.

" Are you okay?" Rue asked when things had fallen silent. Clay waved her off.

" Yes, yes. I'm fine." He headed for the door, still growling to himself. Instead of going downstairs to the street, he climbed to the top of the building, wanting nothing more but to be high up for a change.

Once on the roof, he sat near the edge, his thoughts racing from one thing to another. Mostly his thoughts were on Desmond. Where was he? Was he alive? Working in the Animus still? Clay wondered if he would ever get to know. Probably not, he realized. Leaning backwards on the air vent behind him, he looked into the sky. What if the world was ending? Would this of all been for nothing?

" I wish you luck, Desmond." He said to nothing in particular. " You've got a tough job on your hands."

_While you sit here and wait for his success_, growled a voice.


	6. Skeletons and Lies

**A/N: Sorry for not being around... timey-wimey things you see... *New fandom alert. Run while you can*. Anywho... I've got not much to say. Enjoy! Perhaps a review, if I dare ask? Oh! And this is the end of the build up and fillers. Action soon :3 **

Chapter Six:

Hands fished into pockets, reaching for a key as a happy tune sang from Clay's mouth. Work had finished for him and for once it had passed without any aggravation or frustration. He quickly unlocked the old wooden door of the apartment and stepped through, throwing his things to the floor nearby. He closed the door behind him, heading for the kitchen. He was starving and as usual, he didn't notice until now. He looked through all the cupboards until ultimately deciding the fridge was his best chance… not. It was rather bare, seeing as Rue hadn't bothered going on a restock mission to the grocery store. Maybe she forgot that there was another person living here now, and that food supplies dwindled faster. He closed the refrigerator door, finding nothing to satisfy himself. However, he turned as he heard a peep, forgetting all about his hunger. What he saw was the last thing he could of imagined.

Rue was balled up on the couch, head in her hands, speechless. At first glance, Clay figured she was just watching one of her shows, but as he thought, he heard no TV. Clay watched her, unsure of what to do. Should he console her and try to be a friend or keep his nose out of her business?

_You've been gone too long, Clay_, he told himself.

" Are you alright?" He called to her, frowning slightly. The tiny ball of hate sniffled, lifting her head. Her eyes were red, but other than that, she seemed fine.

" Yeah." Rue replied, sniffling again. She wiped her eyes with the corner of her black hoodie, nodding. " Sorry."

Clay looked down to his hands, intertwined with each other.

" What happened?" He asked, looking back up. She didn't reply right away, still sniffling. It was strange for Clay, being social once again. No matter how long he had been out in the open again, he just couldn't get used to it. For so long he'd been alone… in Abstergo, in the Black Room. Even for his own upcoming, he'd been fairly content in solitude.

" It's nothing." She said, standing up sluggishly. " It's just… my dad."

Clay spoke before he could contemplate his words. " What about him?"

Rue looked at him, her eyes giving nothing away. It was as if she was one of them…Clay shoved the thought aside.

" Why do you care?" The black haired woman asked. Clay was almost lost for words.

" I just…" He paused. " Well, I just want to be supportive. I think. Is that the right answer?"

Rue smiled, rolling her eyes. She shook her head, any sign of the fact that she had been upset washed away.

" I'm such a sob!" She laughed, sitting back down on the arm of the sofa. Clay merely smiled, once again lost for words. However, the two weren't quiet for long. Rue quickly started conversation up again.

" You're home early." Rue noted, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check the time. Clay nodded, happy with himself for his early finish. It was only three o' clock in the afternoon and normally his shift ended at five.

" I am." Clay replied.

" Therefore," Rue continued as if he had said nothing. " I formally invite you to come clothes shopping with me."

Clay laughed, but paused when Rue rose an eye at him.

" Why would you want me there?" He questioned, leaning on a propped elbow.

" I need new clothes."

" I get that point, but why me?"

" I hate going alone!" " And why is that?"

Rue stumbled. " I.. I don't know. I just don't like it. Please come?"

Clay rolled his eyes and went to go to his room.

" Please! I'll take you out for dinner! Wait. No. That sounded off…."

Clay couldn't help me laugh again, highly amused. He always was around her.

" I might have to accept." He said, glancing to the fridge.

Catching his glance, Rue replied, " Yeah, yeah. I'll get around to that. So you are coming?"

" Might as well." He said. She nodded and abruptly ran to her bedroom door. Clay left the kitchen, waiting for Rue to return.

_You need to get out and act normal._

This would prove an easy way to do so, he decided.

* * *

Clay's original thoughts when Rue said 'clothes shopping' was a mall, filled with socializing people. However, when Rue drove straight pass the local shopping center, he had been confused. Although, one simple sentence set him straight.

" Band shirt store." The way she had been so determined to get there put a smirk on Clay's lips. Now, he leaned against a wall while Rue was suffering a haemorrhage of sanity. She had run to the end of the store, staring up amongst the rows of bands.

" Got it. Got it. Got it." She list all but perhaps three. And that was where she lost her mind. She paced back and forth, staring at her choices. It was then when Clay reasoned why he'd been invited along.

" Clay! Which one do you think? Slayer or…?"

Clay looked up to find various black and print shirts in her hand.

" I don't know!" He cried out. She growled.

" You're useless!"

Clay snorted, but watched with a smirk as she went back to her wall of choices that would not be made within the hour.

" What about that one? Maiden? You like that right?" He dared to ask.

Clay wish he hadn't spoken when Rue spun on her heels, threw her hands in the air. She shot him a dark look and then went back to her difficult decisions.

As she fussed, Clay thought back on the time he had known her. Only a few weeks have passed since he walked in that day, weary of who she was but so desperate he would of done anything for some heat. Little did he know that he would be content to stay a while, constantly surprised by his new roommate. Though she was a normal young woman, she was also quite strange. Anti-social, never straying too far from home. And then there was the fact that she was hyper active one moment but then silent the next.

Interrupting his thoughts, Rue bounded over, a grin on her face.

" Made a choice?" Clay asked. It wasn't that he was bored sitting here while Rue stressed about menial things, it was his hunger that was distracting him.

The girl nodded, holding up a black and bloodied shirt from a band he'd never heard of.

Nonetheless, he complimented her on her fast decision making skills, rather sarcastically, and they were soon gone. As they walked down the street to Rue's poor choice of a parking spot however, Clay found himself weary again.

" Clay."

His attention was brought to her darkened tone. Not five minutes ago she had been bouncing with excitement.

" Yes?"

She cracked her knuckles loudly. Clay knew the behaviour. She was thinking deeply about something or other. He wasn't sure why that worried him.

The answer to his question popped up quickly.

" Listen, I went to your closet to get some of my old stuff out of there right? I accidentally knocked a box over… and I saw the thing. The knife, I guess."

Bit by bit, the colour left Clay's face. She had found the blade then.

" I didn't mean to go through your stuff, but it was laying right there on the floor… Why do you have it?"

Clay didn't know what to say! How was he supposed to explain his possession of a weapon? The bond of trust they shared could be severed in half if he did not tread carefully.

" I collect." Clay lied. " I used to research historic events and battles. I found the blade while at a trade… cost me a fortune."

Clay prayed that his rambling lies would save him. What would she say if she didn't think he was telling the truth? The former Assassin did not have to worry for much longer, for Rue merely nodded, accepting the story. Clay released a trapped breath that had swelled up inside him. The pair walked down the street, lapsing into their silence. It was rare they had a conversation lasting more than half an hour or so. There was always that silence that broke it, but Rue who always fixed it.

Suddenly, Clay was nearly pulled off of his feet.

" You've had sushi before, right?" Rue interrogated, staring at Clay with a look that half resembled a glare. Caught off guard, he didn't answer right away. One thing he had noticed about Rue in his time with her was the fact that she was easily excited and distracted by things, and became incredibly strong in those few moments.

" I don't know…" Clay replied, wondering what the right answer was. Rue rolled her eyes, but accepted his words.

" Come on. You can try it." She said, leading the way inside. Clay followed along, not seeing the point in arguing. Besides, she _had _promised him dinner. They sat down along a wall, Rue already engrossed in her menu, sprouting off things he should try.

" Choose for me." He told her as he leaned over the table, looking out the window. Rue did just that, ordered and began chatting away in a small conversation. But as normal, Clay's mind drifted. After some time, he was only half aware that Rue had stopped her talking.

" You always do that." Rue noted. Clay glanced to her quickly before going back to his window.

" And what would that be?" He asked lowly.

" Your mind. It's always somewhere else, focusing on more important things."

Clay nodded shortly. " Always something. Never lets me focus. Distracted by other thoughts."

Rue chuckled to herself. " Adderall. I think that's what it's called."

Clay allowed a smile and sat up straight.

" So. What happened to you today?" Clay asked. Rue rose an eyebrow at him.

" You really care?" She asked again.

Clay replied solidly this time around, " I do."

The girl sighed, " My dad is thinking about going back into service."

Clay studied her face. " I take it you do not want him to?"

" Of course not." She said. " I know he'd only be going as an instructor, trainer or whatever, but it's still worrying. Not having him there, you know?"

" What would he be doing?"

" Most likely just domestic missions, considering his age."

" That doesn't seem to horrific."

Rue shook her head. " Nah, not really. But he's still got that uniform."

The silence crept up, but Clay decided to keep moving forward in the conversation. It was about time he talked to another human being for longer than a few minutes.

" Did your mother enlist?"

Rue laughed at that. " No. My mother would never. I thought of it though."

" What? You?" Clay couldn't help but smile at that thought. " Someone giving you orders and more to the point, you would _follow _them?"

" Ha-ha. Aren't you a funny man, Kaczmarek." Rue sneered at him.

Suddenly, a phone went off in Rue's jacket pocket. She scrambled to get a hold of it, and brought the ringing device to her ear.

" Hello?" She answered. Rue's expression faded into a happiness, then pure shock. " Really?…. Are you sure? Today?…. Damn it."

Rue stood up, shouldering her phone.

" Okay, I'm leaving now!"

She hung up then, fishing bills out of her pocket and putting them on the table.

" Come on, Clay!" She called as she darted for the door. He jumped from his chair and followed her off down the street. She sprinted for her car, surprising Clay on how fast she could run. Despite her sped, Clay knew he could run faster. In a heart beat he matched her pace and over took her.

" Not… fair!" She panted. Clay smirked but was challenged when Rue slid to a stop, throwing herself into her car. " Come on!"

Clay jumped in and Rue quickly started driving. Clay breathlessly laughed. It had been a long time since he had to use his strength like that.

" Where are we going?" Clay asked.

Rue just grinned. " I have a social life, you know. And they came to visit!"

* * *

Rue nearly ran to the door when they arrived, screaming like a child.

" VANESSA!" She had screamed when she caught sight of the blonde standing against the apartment building's doors.

" About time you got here!" She had cried. Like Rue, she wore mostly black, aside from a bright blue shirt underneath her leather jacket. Also like Rue, she was loud when excited. A perfect match it seemed. Rue bolted ahead, crashing into her friend. They exchanged greetings and that was when this Vanessa turned to Clay.

" You didn't tell me you have… company." She said. Rue snorted.

" It must of slipped my mind!" " Slipped my mind my ass. Come on!" She said before entering the building.

" So who is this?" He asked Rue as the three headed up the stairs. Vanessa released a laugh before relying on her friend's behalf.

" I am her only friend! Because she frightens everyone else." She declared. Rue chuckled herself, but did not deny her words.

" Antisocial freak!" The blonde yelled before dashing up the stairs.

" Oh. I see how it is!" Rue shouted back before running after her. Like children they were, Clay saw. But he saw that Rue was happy. Mostly because she was in her natural habitat of chaos, but nonetheless, happy. He made it to the apartment, walking in only to find the two had taken over.

" I take it I won't be having any sleep then?" Clay said as he kicked off his shoes. Rue opened her mouth to speak, but like before, Vanessa answered for her.

" I won't be here for long. I have a wedding to plan!" She declared happily. Rue rolled her eyes.

" I still can't believe our precious Robert fish has popped the question." She said, sinking into her seat deeper. Clay took that as his cue to leave to his bedroom. When he entered, he found everything in its place, but still couldn't help but be reminded of Rue's discovery earlier. He went to his closet and pulled down the box with his blade. It was fashioned for him at his own personal request. It had the same basic functions of a hidden blade, but was more sleek and modern, more suited to his purposes. It didn't look new, now that Clay thought. Had he told his lie correctly? As he began to question himself, Clay put the blade back in the box and shoved it even deeper in his closet. It would fashion nicely into a skeleton.


	7. Telephone

**A/N: WHO ELSE SAW THE ASSASSIN'S CREED 4 TRAILER AND GAMEPLAY?! I couldn't stop screaming with excitement. I freaking adore Edward. Let's add him into my Kenway obsession collection, shall we? I'm seriously thinking Edward could out rank Connor when his game comes out, though. Poor Connor. He had a good run as favourite... Anyway! Review perhaps? That would be nice. I like to know that people are reading this story. So I know I'm not wasting my time XD. **

Chapter Seven:

Inspections, inspections. Clay hated them with a fiery passion, but they had to be done. Laying underneath the Ford he was working on, he reached for a wrench to fix the problem and move on before Raphael had his hide. Of course, with his luck, he couldn't find it within reaching distance. Suddenly, shoes appeared in his side vision, kicking his tool into his hand.

" Here."

The voice was nothing familiar around these parks, but still a tone Clay knew well. Out of shock, he sat up quickly only to have his head rattle against the metal of the car. He thumped back down, groaning. Rolling out from underneath the car, he rubbed his aching head, gazing up at the visitor.

"Hello." The voice said again, rocking back and forth on her heels.

" What the hell are you doing here?" Clay demanded, trying to settle his swimming vision.

Rue smirked and replied, " What? No hello in return? Ouch."

She stood over him, wearing her attire of black.

" Well, I must say I'm a bit surprised to see you around here." Clay told her, sitting up.

" Well, honestly, I wouldn't be here if I didn't need a favour." She replied, tucking her hands into her jean pockets. Before Clay could ask what it was she wanted, a few other voices joined their conversation.

" I never knew you had a girl Clay!" Alex called, the seventeen-year-old high school drop out. He was a nice enough kid, but he wasn't a reliable intelligence source. Another one of Clay's colleagues joined in, one who's name was unknown to Clay himself. It was useless information.

Clay ignored them, but Rue took another path.

" Unfortunately for him, I'm not his 'girl'." She said, with an amused tone. Clay rolled his eyes and stood up, wiping the grease off of his hands.

" What can I help you with?" He asked. Rue replied quickly,

" I've got a job down east side. Normally, I would be fine…but I finish after dark I do not trust that part of town on my own."

Clay folded his arms, raising a brow.

" You're telling me that the terrifying, five foot-five little monster is afraid of the dark?"

Rue snorted. " I'm afraid of the monsters in the dark."

Clay smiled and nodding, accepting her request. " What time do you finish? I'll walk you home."

" I finish at seven. I take it you'll be done by then?"

" I've got a slow day today. I'll have everything done."

Rue nodded, pleased.

" Thanks. I wouldn't ask if I didn't think it was important."

Clay nodded and watched her leave the open garage, only to duck her head back in and shout, " And I'm five foot six, thank you very much."

" Nonetheless, you're still short! Clay laughingly replied. She left laughing too. Clay went back to his car, only to be stopped by a frowning face.

" Last time I checked, this was a garage, not a social gathering." Max growled, glowering at the man. Clay found it hard to keep the bitterness and annoyance out of his words.

" She was just asking a favour and she didn't touch anything."

Max's frown turned to a scowl, but he said nothing else after that, thudding away with his shoulders held high.

Clay went back to his project, counting down the hours until he could leave.

* * *

Hours later, Clay stood outside Rue's building -or at least what he hoped was Rue's building- and waited patiently for her arrival. On his way down here, a half hour walk on his own, he noticed why Rue did not want to walk alone in the darkened hours. Stares dug into his back and he couldn't shake his slight nervousness that crept up his spine. As he waited, the street lights began to flicker on as the last remaining light vanished. Clay sighed, running a hand over his weary eyes. He had been running around all day at work. So much for the light workload. So many of the new hires had no idea what they were doing… it was a surprise that they had been hired at all. As Clay was left to his thoughts, he noticed a movement across the street. A quick blur and then it was gone. Trying to think nothing of it, Clay shoved his hands into his jacket pocket. But again, the movement flickered, catching his attention. However, this time around, a man stepped into the light of a solitary lamp. The stranger stared at Clay as he would a puzzle or a mystery. Clay could almost see his mind spinning a web.

The door beside him opened and out walked Rue, catching his attention. He looked to her for a moment, only to look back around to where the stranger was standing.

He had vanished.

" What are you looking at?" Rue asked carefully as Clay watched the empty sidewalk with stern eyes, a frown beginning to wash over his face.

" Nothing." He said after a few moments, determining that he was just over reacting. He faced Rue, eyeing her over quickly.

" How was work?" He asked as she began to lead the way home. She shrugged, sighing deeply.

" Work."

Half jokingly, " So was this the funereal home?"

Rue was puzzled only for a second before she clicked onto the conversation. Giving a short, tired laugh, she replied, " No. This was a one off job. A friend wanted his computer fixed."

" Could you fix it?"

" I tried. I hack into things. I break things. I do not fix them." She said, rubbing her eyes.

" You seem tired." Clay noted the obvious fact. Rue nodded once.

" I am tired. Didn't get too much sleep last night, to be truthful."

" I know that feeling." said Clay.

They walked in silence for a time after that.

"So." Rue looked Clay. " What were you looking at before?"

" I told you. Nothing."

Rue laughed, showing her disbelief.

" You looked as though you were about to kill someone. So tell me, what did you see?"

" I thought I saw someone, that's all." He told her.

" If looks could kill."

" Since you're asking me questions," Clay said, "why is it that you cannot walk home alone?"

Though he had received stares on the way here, this side of the city as nearly deserted. It was as though they were the only ones about.

" I walked home last week, and some idiot wouldn't leave me alone." She grumbled. " Kept asking me questions. He seemed innocent enough at first."

Clay was intrigued. " What sort of questions?"

Rue shrugged. " Just asking me where places were, how to get there, who I was."

" He left you alone, right?"

Rue nodded, shooting him a look. " Why? What were you going to do if he didn't? Shoot him?"

_Just might_, Clay thought.

Soon enough, Rue and Clay were back home in familiar territory. Rue unlocked the door, muttering about something or other. She dived right for the couch, grabbing her game controller, assuming typical Rue position. Clay himself went to the sanctuary of his bedroom.

He sat down at his desk, relaxing. Covering his eyes with his hands, he thought about falling asleep there and then. Never mind going to his bed, the desk and chair would do.

His dozing was interrupted however when Rue burst into his room, holding out a phone.

" Clay! Phone!" She said before throwing him the device. He caught it, staring at the number. It wasn't one he recognized.

" Who is it?" He asked.

Rue, who was already halfway out of his room, turned around.

" How am I supposed to know?"

She left, leaving Clay the choice to answer or decline the conversation. Hesitantly, he raised the phone to his ear.

" Hello Clay." The other line said, casual and clear. A voice that Clay had not expected to hear from. It was a deeper voice, filled with authority. The name formed on his tongue, along with many other threats and messages. He tried to talk, but his jaw was moving with no words. He took a deep breath, forcing something to come from his mouth.

" William."

A small chuckle escaped the other man's mouth.

" Clay. I thought you had hung up."

Clay was speechless. That voice… it was one of the past now. His old life! Yet, here it was, calling his name.

" Why are you talking to me/" He managed to ask, his hands shaking in his lap. So many questions burned in his mind, he couldn't choose which ones to ask.

" Because you're alive." William Miles replied. Clay could imagine a smirk coming across his face. Well, perhaps that was a lie. William Miles was always emotionless if Clay remembered correctly.

" Yes. I am alive" Clay said unsteadily.

What should he say and what should be kept secret?

" How? Your body was thrown into the Tiber River. In August if I am correct." William's tone was gruff and stern, almost wounding Clay. Although, what had he been expecting? A 'welcome back!' or 'the team missed you!'? Clay winced as he thought of the team. One member was a traitor while the other was a bold leader. Clay didn't speak.

" Kaczmarek." Came the familiar tone of a demand. " How?"

" I… I was given another chance." He said, curling his hand into a fist, only to release it again. He was growing restless.

" That doesn't answer my question." Said Miles.

Clay sighed. He didn't even know how himself, and it was his life. " It's the only answer I can give you."

There was a silence on the other end. Clay thought it to be a silent anger. Suddenly, a question bubbled to Clay's lips.

" How did you get this number? How did you even know I was alive in the first place?"

" A local team was sent record readings of energy, possibly emitted from a P.O.E. One of the Assassins saw you."

Clay grit his teeth together in frustration. He hadn't been careful.

" And the number?"

" We asked around on the identification of the black haired woman you've taken habit with. She was easily accessible."

Clay frowned. He hadn't just been careless. He had been reckless.

" When are you coming back, Clay?" William asked.

Clay couldn't bite back the harsh laughter. " Do you really think I am coming back? After all the hell I've been through?"

Clay was only slight aware of his raising voice.

" You belong here with us." William said.

" NO!" Clay was angry no. " No more, do you hear me? I am done with it. No more Assassins and Templars. I don't want anymore deaths. I don't want to kill anymore."

The Assassin sounded dark on the other line. " Both sides will never vanish, Clay. Templars and Assassins will be at war for centuries to come."

Clay was snarling now. " And I will have no part. I will stay my blade. Permanently."

He smashed a button, ending the infuriating conversation. He tried taking deep breaths to calm himself, but only worked himself up again as he thought of William's words. However, Clay's stress and anger was erased in a heartbeat.

" Explain yourself." Demanded a small voice. Clay spun around, standing when he saw Rue in the doorway. His breath caught in his throat and or the second time that night, words withheld themselves from his tongue. Rue seemed bold, standing there rigidly. But as Clay looked her over, he saw another thing. Fear in her eyes. How much had she heard?

" Listen…" He began.

" Explain!" She yelled, her hands twitched with either anger or worry. Both, if she was smart. Clay stayed silent. The Assassin Order had been secret for centuries, only a select few knowing about their work. Rue wasn't one of those beings. Though Clay was no longer part of the Order, could he betray them and tell her?

" For what it's worth, I've left that life behind." He said slowly, hoping she would settle down enough to listen to reason. Though, of course, she took unreasonable measures.

" I demand that you tell me who and what you are." Her voice broke. Once she regained her composition, she continued. " Or else you can just leave."

That was something Clay did not want to hear.

" I can't tell you." He wanted to, if it meant salvaging his life here. Rue was definitely suspicious of him now. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest, her head held low. She never seemed submissive before on any account, but now she looked plainly confused and weary.

Her voice was shaking now as she spoke, " I trusted you Clay, but you lied."

" I didn't!" Clay exclaimed. He had no reason to tell her before. If anything, he was trying to forget the misery of the Brotherhood himself.

" Leave." Rue ordered, staring at Clay with her careful blue eyes.

" What?"

" Until you can tell me what is happening, or who you really are, leave."

And there went his only hope.

" Rue, please, understand-"

" CLAY." She shouted. Deciding the poor woman should be spared, Clay nodded, submitting to her requests.

Rue slithered away as Clay walked to the door with a hollow feeling in his stomach.

" You can come back. If you explain yourself and I don't shoot you for being a complete jerk." Rue said as he opened the door.

Clay turned to look at her, surprised by her words.

" You'd really take me back?" Questioned the former Assassin.

Rue paused before nodding once, clearly her choice being against her own will. " I sensed something good in you Clay. I hope I wasn't wrong." She sighed. Taking the words to heart, Clay left the apartment, leaving Rue behind, and headed for the streets. God knows what he'd do now. Clay did know one thing. William Miles had crossed a line.


	8. The Tales We Tell Ourselves

**A/N: So I've finally updated. I have an order of updates and Clay is unfortunately for readers, is last. My Daughter of Death story's chapter was just not getting written -_- Oh well, I managed to do it! Also, thanks to the reviews. I do like to know what you think. It's important for me to know what people are thinking.**

**So, I've gotten a few comments now about Desmond. Let me clear this all up. I had no plans to bring Desmond into this story. There are many Desmond/Clay stories out there, and many connections, etcetera. I find more fascination in just Clay by himself. How he would react with people that aren't Assassins, hence the point of this story. If people really want it, I'll give Desmond a cameo appearance and maybe even a few mentions, but nothing more. I want this story to be about Clay and the Assassins in a whole, not just Des. Don't get me wrong, I love him to pieces, but I don't see him in this story. And concerning Rue: She has a use, as you will see throughout the story. If you're worried about her becoming the main point of the story, hang in there. I'm introducing a few new characters in time.**

Chapter Eight:

A path had been worn into the concrete from the countless paces back and forth. The old park had been hosting Clay and his various emotions. For hours he'd been here trying to clear his head enough to devise a plan, but so far all he got was a migraine and a sense of guilt and stress placed upon his shoulders. The way his head was filled with multiple thoughts and feelings reminded him of the Bleeding Effect. It felt as though he was exploring memories, voicing words and living a life that wasn't his own… again.

_Maybe William was right… maybe I don't belong here, _Clay thought to himself, continuing his pacing streak. Releasing a frustrated growl, Clay paused, massaging is temples.

" Focus! Focus! Focus!" He growled to himself. Clay couldn't even begin to comprehend on where to begin to start unravelling this mess he'd made. One thing he did know for sure though, was that Rue knew something about the Assassins. No matter how small, that tiny bit of information she now held was dangerous. Not just for her, but for Clay as well. She knew who he was now. If she went off and told somebody, the Templar Order could track him down in seconds, and into hiding he'd go.

Now he faced the troubling decision on what to do with her. There were several options to choose from. He could leave her be and move deeper into the city. Find another garage or maybe an actual job to support himself. He had gone to an engineering college after all, the task wouldn't be impossible. Then there was the choice of getting rid of her all together. It wasn't the Assassin's way, and he'd be one if he killed her or took her away from her docile life. Though, information was a funny thing. People would kill to keep it secret. Clay didn't want to murder her and he'd refuse to do so. He wasn't that sort of a person. He wasn't a slaughterer. She knew only slivers of what the Brotherhood truly was and even then, she was so much like a child that Clay figured the woman would forget what she had learned over the course of a few months. Lastly, Clay could just tell her about everything. Rue hadn't gone off and phoned the police, screamed, shouted or hid when she overheard Clay's phone call. He would force her to keep it a secret and perhaps things would go back to the way they were. The Brotherhood was gone for good. He'd even said he didn't want to kill anymore! Rue would have to believe him. After all, she'd lived with him for how many months?

Clay paused from his walking, taking in the night air. It felt cold and sharp in his lungs and helped sooth the voices that kept popping up here and there. He forced all the problems away and headed down the park path. He had to choose now on what to do with her. Leave her be or just explain to her the entire thing. No matter how hard he thought about each option, he just couldn't decide.

He noticed ahead a building. One or two floors high and nothing special. Clay started for it at a walk, needing to release his pent up energy. Once he stood before it, he eyed the wall, picking out his climbing holds. Without another second wasted, he scaled it to the top. He pulled himself up to the roof, standing straight and looking about. Climbing was a skill he'd never forget. Drilled into him as a tool of either entry or escape, it was one of the useful things the Assassins had taught him to do. Clay used to love to climb, especially when he was a smaller boy. It was a nice escape from the chaos of his old family home. Even now he felt better standing on the roof, the early winter breeze flowing around him. He sat down, letting his legs hand off the side. He was never fearful of heights and would recklessly hang from the top of buildings or stood close to the edge.

_You have to choose now, Clay,_ he told himself. He ran his fingers through his blonde hair, scraping it back, away from his face. There were two possible paths he could walk down. One on the side of the Assassins and the other for his own personal gain. If he did choose to leave Rue behind, he would be following the rules of the Brotherhood he had sworn to ignore to save his own sanity. Though, if he told her a story she wanted to hear, he'd be crossing the thing he'd dedicated the last five years of his life too. Hell, he'd even saved Desmond after his death. After his suicide he had still helped the Brotherhood. Could he turn on it now, even though he wanted peace and quiet? So now the question was what did he want more? The answer to that question was the fact that he wanted a normal life of course, but was it worth all the risks?

The buzzing in his head grew to a deafening chorus of various voices, some he knew fairly well. He rubbed the sides of his head, wishing he could focus on his own thoughts, rather than somebody else's. It hadn't bothered him too much so far, the Bleeding Effect, not since Juno brought him back with the apple. Clay couldn't pin point the reason as to why it was bothering him now.

For a little while longer, Clay thought of the situation, stripping it down until it was only the bare root of the problem.

At long last, he came up with his choice.

He'd have to tell her. Like he had told himself so many times before, he had left the Brotherhood. They had no control over him anymore. With new found determination, Clay carefully descended from his perch. Heading down the path towards home, or the closest thing to it, Clay yet again begin to doubt himself.

_What will I tell her? _He pondered. Clay had not the slightest idea. Even if he told her the truth, would Rue believe him? Being stubborn and hard-headed as she was, it could be a frighteningly real possibility that she did not. Clay paused, gritting his teeth together. He forced himself to ignore his paranoia and marched forward, determined to follow out his decision to the bitter end.

* * *

Luckily, Clay still had the apartment key to let him into the building. Seeing as sky was dark and the hour late, Clay highly doubted Rue answering the door, if she would even talk to him. He soundlessly climbed the stairs and even now Clay was still thinking. Though, it was no longer about what to do. It was more of what to say. At last he came to Rue's apartment and knocked softly on the door to alert her of his presence here. Clay pushed the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door. Inside, Clay was blinded by lights. It wasn't really a surprise to find the living room lights on, as well as the TV. Rue had a habit of dropping whatever she was doing to move onto something else. Clay tip toed inside, closing the door as quietly as he could behind him. Figuring Rue was asleep, he did not want to wake her by any means. The ferocious black haired woman was already in a horrific mood, it would not be wise to add onto it by waking her in the early morning. He took a deep breath, feeling slightly nervous despite the constant reassuring Clay gave himself. He wandered around the living room, glancing at the TV screen. Rue left her game running it would seem. Set in a western type environment, Clay couldn't name the title. He spied a black remote on the floor and was tempted to pick it up and play for himself, to find out why Rue barely moved from the couch on the weekends, but decided quickly against it. He didn't dare touch anything of hers, in fear she'd come out of the shadows and attack. She was a strange girl, childish in her mannerisms. Clay got used to it quickly, and if anything, it amused him now. The first few days he'd moved in, however, were the strangest for him. Clay relaxed back into the sofa, rubbing his tired eyes. He could do with some sleep, but he didn't dare. The second Rue was awake he'd begin to explain to her, to tell the story that he'd been planning to share. Getting restless as he thought about it, Sixteen stood and went to the kitchen to scrounge for food. Finding nothing to suite him, Clay leaned over the kitchen counter.

Something caught his attention. Rue's door was slightly ajar, completely unlike her. She kept that room off-limits to all, even that Vanessa woman Clay had met that one time. It was her sanctuary Clay had guessed. Everybody had one, whether in their home or not. That door was closed always, unless Rue opened it to allow admittance for only herself. Curiosity swarmed through Clay's mind. Why was it open? Had she fallen asleep without closing it? No matter how many questions burned through his head, Clay didn't move.

He thought to himself, _but it's wrong…_

Knowing he was already in deep water with the fiery woman, he decided to investigate. He couldn't be in anymore trouble. He crossed the small apartment and hovered near the door. It was dark inside and he could hear no sounds. Perhaps Rue was indeed asleep and Clay was just being too suspicious of things. Mechanically, he pushed the door open. He peered inside but could still see nothing. He stepped inside and ran a hand along the wall until he felt a light switch. He flicked it on and the room was brought to light.

"Oh my God." Clay breathed, staring into the room, startled.

Things were _everywhere_.

Dark clothes laid sprawled across the carpeted floor, posters and pictures and notes were pinned on the whitewashed walls and Rue's bed was empty, with the sheets half hanging off of the bed itself. The place looked as though a bomb had exploded. The room was fairly small. A bed was pushed against one wall, her white desk resting next to it. A chest was put at the foot of the bed, acting as a set of draws. This room had no closet, only one big window to the right of Clay. He wondered why Rue chose this small room over Clay's larger one. She had that power to choose what she wanted. He shuffled inside, looking at everything. There was a shelf to the right of the white desk, which held two high stacks of CD's, and a few books beside them. The actual desk was the most cluttered place. It held two computers and any remaining space was covered with papers. Clay took a few steps deeper in the room, though clothes replaced the floor at this point. This place was torn apart. Clay had always figured Rue to be slightly disorganized, as her behaviour would suggest, but this was madness!

As Clay looked about, he noticed one thing was missing. Rue.

Where was that sarcastic lady? He called out her name and got nothing in return. He shouted a little louder, and again nothing. Had she left for a friends house after the conflict? That thought worried Clay. What if she told them of the things she heard? He could imagine it now.

'My roommate's a murderer!'

Clay sat on the end of Rue's bed, head in his hands. This was not going well. As he looked about one more time, he found Rue's phone on the floor. He bent down to pick it up. Clay pressed a button and screen came to life, displaying a picture of some person he hadn't seen before. It looked vaguely like a character he'd seen her once play on her beloved gaming system. The phone suddenly asked for a password. Clay chewed the inside of his cheek and guessed a few times before giving up. He placed the phone on the corner of Rue's desk. The torn man stood and left to exit. However, something stopped him. The door, he noticed, had been kicked at. The door from bottom up until the middle had dents in it and even the walls around the door had holes in them. Clay knelt before one of the holes in the drywall, fingering it. Bits of plaster gave away as he poked at the damage. Clay had seen enough holes like this in his life time to know that this was a fresh crack.

And there were many holes similar littering the wall.

Suddenly finding himself concerned, Clay stood and left Rue's room. He crossed the living room once more and entered his own room, finding it to be in disarray. Clay went straight to his closet, scraping away at clothes until he found that damned box. He ripped it open and found his blade inside. His heart was fluttering in his chest as theories and tales ran through his mind. Despite Clay's bedding being thrown absolutely everywhere and items on his desk in a clutter, Clay found nothing out of the normal. That was until he turned around.

The door had closed softly behind him at some point, and on the back of that white door was something he'd never wanted to see again.

The cross was a crimson horror painted upon his door. The tips of the corners of the cross still dripped and trickled down. Above it was writing. He didn't want to go any closer to read what the words said.

Clay felt nothing. No hectic thoughts ran through his mind, no feelings burned in his heart. He thought he would feel severe hate, but there was just nothingness. Time ticked by and eventually, Clay began to move. One step at a time he edged closer to the door. The message was hastily scrawled in black marker. It was not information he read, but a threat.

_Come find her._

So they had found her, and through her, they had found him.

The Templar had proven stronger. They had sent their best executioners, Clay was almost certain of it. But instead of the Assassin they wanted to get rid of, they had found the next best thing.

Bait.


	9. The Seventh Floor

**A/N: So Clay's stepped into those old shoes it would seem...**

Chapter Nine:

Guilt was a heavy burden to bare upon shoulders, Clay quickly found out. He sat unmoving in Rue's abandoned apartment, staring at the floor with a heavy heart. Clay had not the slightest idea of what to do. Shortly after he had discovered the Templar cross still dripping down his door, he searched the apartment high and low for anything, _anything_ that could tell the former Assassin where to go. He tore apart his room, he cast aside everything in Rue's and even searched the living room and kitchen and yet found nothing in the tiny apartment. Clay did not want to think of what would become of the poor woman, a mere three years younger than Clay. Would they kill her if he did not show? He prayed that they let her be, whether they scared her into silence or dropped her off someplace that was not home. Even that notion sounded cruel to his ears. Rue was a girl who always returned to her castle, her sanctuary, at the end of a long day. If she was left in a stranger's company across the world, Clay doubted the black-haired woman could keep sanity about her for long. Standing from his guilt ridden sulking, Sixteen decided to search once more and again after that, if that was what it took. Surely the agents that had been sent were not so blind to take the angry Canadian as a hostage without leaving a demand or instructions. The must have left something…

Trying once more, Clay stepped into Rue's destroyed room. It was so messy that he almost had an urge to fold up her clothes and stow them away just to clear space. With a feeling of defeat, he saw that he'd already searched this room entirely.

"There has to be something." He muttered to himself before picking away at clothes and tossing them to Rue's bed. What would he even be looking for? A marked map if he was lucky. Unfortunately, luck never seemed to be on Clay's side. In a matter of a few minutes, most of Rue's things had created a mountain on her bed. The floor was clear at least, but still no messages or maps came forward. Clay glanced about to make sure he had seen it all. He had counted six hours since his departure and that left six hours for the agents to grab her and run. They could not have gotten far, unless they drove out of the city. Clay hoped they hadn't. It would be easier for him to find Rue if they kept her local.

Clay all but gave up on Rue's room for indications on where to go until her phone vibrated loudly on the desk. Clay eyed the device. He aught ignore it, for he saw no use in the phone, but his legs would have none of it. The phone found Clay's hand soon enough and a preview of the message appeared on the lock screen. They read four numbers. Seven-six-nine-two. The phone number did not appear on the screen and it would be useless to Clay even if he knew who it was sending the note. He put the phone down and walked away until another message was received. Yet again Clay went to the phone. Now it read,

'Figured it out yet, Assassin? I'm…' The preview ended.

Confused, Clay stared at the numbers until it struck him. The answer to the puzzle of the numbers felt as though a brick was thrown. How could have he been so ignorant?

Clay unlocked the phone with the password that was sent to him. The phone went straight to the conversation. The incoming phone number, like he figured, was a stranger to him. He stared down at the messages. Should he reply? The sender had called him Assassin. It had to be them, the Templar. He typed his reply, a simple 'yes'. Moments later the phone buzzed in his hands.

'We are starting to think you are not coming, Sixteen.'

Clay grit his teeth and sent a message in return. 'Tell me where you are and I will gladly come collect the woman.'

He decided to keep Rue's relationship to him as demeaning as possible, to keep her as safe as he could. Though, her captors had to know something of their relationship Clay saw, or else she'd be happily sleeping here. Clay was worried when the phone went to sleep after five minutes. Would the Agents on the other end reply? Ten minutes, then fifteen that bled into twenty ticked by. Clay tapped his fingers to a pointless rhythm. Eventually the darkened screen snapped to life with light, yet another message on screen with an address. Clay didn't know the city as well as he'd liked, but he was almost certain that he had passed the set of apartment blocks when he went to walk Rue back from during the night. That meant Rue was close by. With newfound determination and ferocity he jumped to his feet, shoving Rue's phone into his front pocket. He burst from the room and went to his, going into his closet.

When he pulled down the box and opened the lid, he sighed. He never thought he'd need the blade again. Yet here he was, fastening it into place. He tested the weapon. It responded to his actions in a heartbeat. The steel had not forgotten him it would seem.

Clay didn't know what would happen, but he had no choice.

With that, he left.

* * *

Clenching his fist and then releasing it, Clay stared up at the apartment building towering above. His teeth ground together as anger started to bubble to the surface. He was angry they had found him. He was even more irate about the fact they had taken an innocent as bait, although Clay expected nothing less from the weasels. The Templar did not care for human lives and only desired to control them. He stayed to the shadows as best he could and trusted none of the faces that crept around the streets. Anyone of them could be his undoing. The message had said they were waiting on the seventh. The entire building couldn't be more than eight floors up.

Clay eyed the building carefully. He wasn't going in directly, not by a long shot. If they wanted him, then they were going to get the Assassin along with it. There was no other way in through the building other than the front entrance… or so it seemed. The walls looked as though it bore enough handholds for him to climb.

The plan Clay had decided on was to scale the balconies until he reached the seventh floor. The fire escape was on the other side of the building and useless to Clay. Once he found a way into the building, he'd look for Rue. The building itself was crumbling apart one brick at a time and several windows were shattered. It appeared to be abandoned but Clay knew for a matter of fact that it was not. Clay started forward to start his climb upwards, forcing his nerves down. For three years he had climbed, killed, gathered information, done whatever the Brotherhood requested from him. The only difference now was that this was Clay's decision. Standing before the wall, his target of perhaps thirty feet seemed even higher. With a jump to the first handhold, Clay grabbed on tight and started his long haul upwards.

Stretching and reaching for places to hold, Clay eventually made it to the seventh balcony. With a sideways leap to his left, Clay landed stylishly in a crouch. He paused, making sure nobody had seen him. He went to the glass sliding door in front of him, one weary step at a time. The apartment it lead into was dark and seemed empty. He pressed his face against the glass and saw nothing but an empty room inside. It was as though the entire floor had been wiped clean. Only a few rooms were left in this new layout.

With sudden realization, Clay saw that it wasn't just a meeting place but an entire Templar den. One solitary red cross, equal length on all four sides hung on a far wall. Clay left the glass door and stood in the darkest corner. If he strolled right on in, it would be like handing himself over. Was that what they wanted? A trade of lives, his for hers? Clay frowned at the thought. He could stick to the shadows the best he could, but even then the agents were expecting him. Rue would be guarded heavily to make sure he didn't try and steal their hostage back. Sucking in a deep breath before he entered the eye of the storm, Clay decided he was ready. He went back to the door and tugged on the handle. It rattled but was locked shut. Annoyingly, Sixteen saw that he would have to break in if anything. At a glance, the glass seemed weak but as Clay pushed on it as silently as he could, he found it to be sturdier than what it appeared to be. Thinking on his feet, he decided to take a more direct approach. With his knuckles, he tapped on the glass. Quietly at first but then louder when no reaction came. He paused and dipped around the corner when he saw movement. He hoped they didn't see him completely, the night masking him from the agents. Suddenly, Clay could hear the door unlock and slide open.

"I could have sworn I heard something…" Growled a voice, making the mistake to step out onto the balcony. Clay's hands lashed out and pulled the agent backwards. He shoved his blade into the man's body, through his spine. As the blood flowed freely from the wound, Clay stifled the Templar's muffled cries with his hand covering his mouth. He groaned for a few moments more before he fell limp, allowing Clay to drop him. A man was already dead and not a sound had been uttered. The reformed Assassin slithered through the door and slid it shut, walking into the darkness of the hideout. It was one big open space that bore no furniture or objects. Just several windows that let in moonlight from the outside walls. However, this was only half the floor, Clay realized. He was sure there was much more room to it, there had to be. Especially if Rue wasn't here. Unless it was a trap to drag him out here alone…

Even more weary than before, Clay quickened into a brisk walk, not daring to go any faster. As he crossed the vast room, he saw a door on the other end. A thin strip of light coming out from underneath it signalled life. Clay was soon upon the door and could hear voices from inside, though he could not understand the words being shared. He eyed the door nervously, more specifically the light that fanned across the floorboards, the edge of the yellowish light hovering over the top of Clay's foot. If he went to the door to hear what they were saying, they'd notice the shadow that was Clay. Suddenly, the handle on the door twisted. Skipping to the wall, Clay pressed himself against it flat. The door opened beside him, a big brute walking through. As the door was parted, he could hear the conversation.

"…front entrance is clean, Nolan."

"No sign? It's been a couple of hours, surely the Assassin would be here…" Came the reply.

The first voice spoke again. "Another message-?"

The door close. Holding his breath, Clay watched as the agent unknowingly walk forward into the gloom of the open space. He wasn't a religious man, but Clay was praying hard, praying that the brute didn't turn around and spy the apparently late Assassin. Sixteen was lost. He had not the slightest idea of how to continue. He could burst into that room, sure. But he counted at least three bodies and Clay could not trust himself in hand-to-hand combat after such a long absence. However, Clay's decision was made for him.

"WHAT THE HELL?" Screamed a feminine voice, though it was more an outburst of rage than one of fear. With his heart in his throat, Clay shuffled as close as he would dare to the door. Guilt swam back at him as he heard Rue. At least she was alive, though had she suffered injuries?

"Will you shut up?" Snapped a male, clearly directed towards their irate hostage.

"Give me that gun, and I'll shoot you." Rue growled back at them. Whether it was meant as a threat or a promise, it did not matter.

"You're lucky I can't shut you up personally." The male responded, sounding just as angered as the Canadian.

"Go ahead. I dare you." Rue's tone had shifted from anger to pure acid. From the yell that came next, somebody had made a move.

"Do not touch her, Jed. If we're to make the exchange, we need her as clean as possible."

"Why do you think the Assassin is even going to show his face?" There was a silence after that.

With fresh confidence, Clay walked to the door, his hand lingering on the handle. Not wasting another second, he turned it and let the door swing open. The two who had been talking turned on their heels, a scowl upon one face, a neutral expression on the other. Clay stepped into the light of the room, keeping his own face blank. At first glance he spotted Rue, tied to an office chair. Out of all the expressions, hers was the deadliest; a rage like no other.

"So the Assassin appears." Said one. His attire was all black. He appeared to be older, perhaps having a few years on Clay. The agent was calm and collected, while his younger apprentice was not. Wearing black like his boss, the man's scowl deepened when Clay looked at him directly. Lastly he glanced to Rue. When he did, she spoke.

"I'm going to kill you." She told him as if he had asked the time day. "Right after I finish gutting this lot."

"Are you okay?" He questioned lowly, watching the two black-clad men before him closely.

"Do I look okay?" She sniped back in reply. She was fine, Clay saw. Especially if she was like this in a hostage situation. Clay opened his mouth to tell her things were going to be fine, but the black-haired woman beat him to the punch.

"I was in the middle of the longest kill streak in the HISTORY of kill streaks, and these dogs walk in and drag me away. A KILL STREAK, CLAY." She was yelling by now. It was hard to keep a smile off of his face. She was most certainly alright. Angry, but alright.

"What is it you want for her release?" He asked. The elder stepped forward.

"Surrender yourself." He said. Clay's brows furrowed. "Surrender and the woman will be let go, free to do as she pleases."

"And what would happen to me?"

He replied calmly, "The Grand Masters will decide what will happen with you."

Clay mused over the offer. No doubt they'd send him back to Abstergo for further testing.

"Fine. Let her go." Clay ordered, motioning towards Rue who had fallen silent. She was frowning he saw. He wanted to explain to her everything, like he had originally planned, but there wouldn't be any time for that now.

"Lay down your arms." Snapped the youngest agent. His dark, rat like eyes bore into Clay's. He started to slip his blade off of his arm, all the while watching the Templar. The second he was disarmed he would be more than venerable.

"What's going on?" Rue demanded, though her confidence and rather boisterous tone had all but disappeared. She sounded just as worried and nervous as Clay felt. The older man held out his hand and Clay reluctantly handed over his only weapon. The leader like man summoned for Rue's release.

"Be gentle, Jed." He said when Rue swore loudly as the rope was ripped from her wrists. She rubbed the redness away from them, sending daggers into Jed body with her blue eyes. She stood from her chair and hesitantly walked towards the door which Clay guarded. She did not leave however. She was too busy with the elder.

"You. Nolan." She said. " I want my phone back."

Expectantly, she held out her hand palm up. Jed stared at her blankly, as if bewildered that this lesser creature was talking to him.

"Drop it." Clay pushed, reaching out to grab her. She shrugged off his contact.

"It's a matter of principle now." She declared.

Clay latched onto her hoodie's sleeve, dragging her away from Jed. "They're dangerous." He said to her lowly. "Leave while they allow you to do so freely."

"You're not giving yourself up, are you? I don't know what you are, but they seemed to be a lot worse." She whispered. Clay didn't reply but started pushing her for the door.

"Go." He told her, his voice holding authority. She frowned and lingered in the doorway.

"What's going to happen to you?" She asked, eyeing Jed and Nolan. Clay wished he had a nice answer, or any answer at all.

Nolan the apprentice replied for him. "If he's lucky? His second death, ain't that right, Subject 16?"

Clay winched as he heard the name. Rue hovered, unwilling to leave.

"Run little girl." Nolan taunted, a sinister smirk coming across his features.

"Rue, leave." Clay snapped to her. Of all times to be a stubborn child, this was not one of them.

During the silence that ensued, Clay could hear multiple footsteps echoed closer and closer, heading towards the room that housed the captive and the Assassin.

A new voice spoke up, confident and sly. "I say if the lady does not want to leave, why make her?"

Clay's jaw tightened, his fists curling into white knuckles. His shoulders became tense, as did all the muscles in his body. He slowly turned to lock eyes with the new arrival.

"I see you have finally come, Clay." He said. His greased black hair glistened as he stepped into the brightness of the room, a hand upon Rue's shoulders. She slithered out of his contact and came willingly when Clay tugged on her sleeve, pulling her to him. Anger rose up in Clay, though he could not say he was not completely surprised. There had always been _something_ about him to wrinkle Clay's nose.

"Raphael." He greeted in return with icy courtesy. The sly fox smirked, his dark eyes scanning the scene.

"It is about time you joined us, Assassin."


	10. Escape

**A/N: Sorry for the late update. Cousins are visiting and that fact had all but halted my writing. It doesn't help that my other stories needed an update too! Enjoy and leave a review. I enjoy reading them! **

Chapter Ten:

He shouldn't be surprised. Clay willed himself not to be. Hadn't he not trusted those dark, weasel-like eyes the second he met Raphael? True his distrust had been, however how had he known Clay was there? Surely a influential Templar like himself had some safe house near base to live in, so what was he doing in a backstreet garage? Raphael studied him head to toe, forming an opinion in his mind. Rue edged backwards, shuffling along the floorboards. Before she had been all tough talk and loud mouthed, but now things were different. The mood always seemed to turn to ice when Raphael stepped in the room and this occasion proved to be no different.

"Pleased to see me?" The Templar asked smugly, his lips curling back into a smirk to reveal his teeth.

_Much better off calling them fangs_, Clay thought.

Clay didn't answer him and instead watched nervously as Max stepped into the room, acting as Raphael's shadow. Some things did not change, it would seem. As the two garage workers stepped into the space, Clay could not help but wonder who else was a Templar around him. He shot Rue a flickering glance but shook the stupid thought from his head. She was too simple to be an agent, unless she was a very good at spinning a tale.

"What happens now?" Clay's voice was loud compared to the new silence that had formed. Raphael moved forward into what seemed like a cell now, a prison with no escape. His footsteps rung hollow off the walls. It was as though the man wanted to add to the nerves of both the Assassin and his companion. Even his own men eyed him carefully, unsure of what his next move would be.

"I have orders to take you back home, Sixteen." Raphael replied. "Vidic has missed you terribly." "I'm sure."

Clay had figured as much as he waited for Rue's phone to vibrate in his hands mere hours ago. They would want to know how he was not where he put him, wherever that was. His revival was a mystery even to Clay. Raphael took a few more paces, every movement he made was as sly as his character. Out of habit, Clay couldn't help but notice that Raphael had changed from his greasy work clothes into something more practical. Dark blue jeans with a black leather jacket created his attire. A gold cross stood out the most, hanging low around his neck.

"But it's not yourself that you're worried about. It's your friend here, ain't it?" Rue scowled towards him when he looked her way, but stayed quiet.

"I'll hand over my life for hers." Clay promised. "She's innocent."

Raphael nodded once. "She can leave. But I can't exactly trust your definition of innocent."

Clay scowled deeply.

"What do you mean? What do you intend?" Clay demanded. Rue shuffled closer to him.

"What's happening?" She whispered. If only Clay had an answer for her.

"Plain and simple, I plan to ignore everything you have to say about this girl of yours, and think for the worst. After all, Assassins can't be trusted."

"I told you already! I knew nothing of him!" Rue shouted, as if the volume could force her point across. Clay wanted to tell her that her thoughts were useless. Raphael's mind was solid and unmoveable. Raphael looked at her, with not surprise, but more distaste. 'She speaks?' His face seemed to say. The Templar recovered quickly and walked towards her.

"There is such thing as a liar." Rue recoiled as he went to take hold of her shoulder. At least she wasn't so blind to see that this man was dangerous. A gloom settled over the heads of the Assassin and Rue. Each was sentenced to their own potential grave. Clay would die in Abstergo and Rue... God knows what would happen to her. Clay didn't want to go back to Abstergo, nor did he want to go back to Vidic or the Animus. He'd kill himself again, and this time it wouldn't be for Desmond's sake. His eyes glanced over the room, judging the faces that surrounded him. Nolan and Jed, Max and Raphael.

"How are we going to play this?" Nolan asked his superior.

"Max." Raphael called, gaining the brute's attention. The snake gestured towards Rue. Max stalked forward to grab her at orders.

"Clay…" She whined, moving behind him to use him as a blockade.

"Why does she need an escort?" Clay asked, looking towards Max. Though Raphael was cunning, Max was the largest threat with his sheer strength. There wasn't a single doubt in Clay's head that Max couldn't smash skulls.

"The poor woman could trip and break her neck down the stairs... Or end up going down the wrong street... The list goes on and on."

The threats were clear enough.

"I don't want to go." Rue said as bravely as she could. Her voice was steady enough, a considerable feat considering the circumstances.

Nolan sneered towards her. "You were screaming for your release not long ago." "Yeah, well... Now I've changed my mind."

"Come on, woman." Max growled. No matter how quick Rue leapt back, Max was faster. Big, leathery hands wrapped around her arm, yanking her forcefully forward. She skidded across the floor, digging in her heels in attempts to save herself. She was only a hundred pounds, or so she appeared to be. A feather in they eyes of the strong man. Rue kicked and fought but Max had her locked in a unbreakable grip. Just as Max pulled her out the door, Raphael held up a hand, signalling a stop.

"Be sure that she's untraceable."

"CLAY!" The woman screeched. Her hands latched onto the side of the door. Max wrapped his hands around her tiny waist, trying to pry her from the door. Raphael turned at the commotion. Before Clay could think his actions through, he slammed his elbow into his back, sending him sprawling from the sudden attack. Blocking an incoming punch from Jed, Clay whirled around and sent a punch himself. The agent staggered backwards, bending over with his hands feeling his face for damage. A well aimed kick to his head was enough to silence the young man. Clay turned from his brawl just as Nolan raised a gun. He had been smart and avoided the fight, unlike his partner laying on the floor. Lunging forward before a shot could be taken, Clay threw himself against the Templar, sending both to the floor. They wrestled for power, sending weak hits to one another until at last, Clay managed to strike him across the face. The forceful blow rendered him useless only for a moment, but that moment was all the Assassin needed to grab the gun that Nolan had dropped. Clay pressed the point of it under his throat. Nolan's eyes were dark as he stared at Clay.

"Do it. Won't get another chance."

This was always the hardest part, killing a man. He had done it so many times, why was he hesitating now?

"DO IT!" Nolan was shouting. "I don't want to wait."

Flipping the gun in his hands, Clay struck him across the temple. Nolan fell limp on the floor. With the gruelling task of dismissing the agents completed, Clay stood. He retrieved his blade from close by. Somebody had dropped it. Clay wasn't sure who anymore. His thoughts were too clouded and his heart beating too fast. He fastened it in place, eyeing the door. Raphael had fled the scene with Max and Rue, though with the fuss the black haired woman was giving, it was very sceptical that they got very far. Clay ran out of the room, heading for an exit. A door on the far side of the room had been yanked open and leaked in light, indicating where to go. He raced down the stairs as fast as he would dare, sometimes leaping down entire flights of steps to gain distance. Pausing, he glanced over the edge to see if he could hear or see the trio. He vaguely heard yelling and shouting at the bottom of the fire escape. He began to run again, quickly catching up to the Templars below.

"For God's sake, shoot her in the hand if she keeps grabbing hold of things!" Raphael was snarling as Clay got to the second to last floor. Rue was gripping onto the railing, her hands white with effort as she battled against Max. "Throw her over your shoulder, _something_!"

"I can't stall them forever!" Rue yelled as she spotted Clay. Raphael turned on his heels at her voice, raising his gun. Clay ducked down behind cover as several shots fired into the wall where he had been standing seconds before. It was now when Clay wished he had taken the gun as well as a blade, for a counterattack. He waited before emerging from his hiding place, listening for any movements.

"Give me the girl, you stay behind and cover me." The leader ordered. Clay swerved out of his hiding place just as Raphael cracked the butt of his handgun over Rue's fingers. She cried out and let go, giving the fox like man a chance to drag her out of the building. Max stood like a bulky barricade in front of the door. Clay eyed his next target, knowing that he would have to disperse him quickly. Over the years of being an Assassin, never before had he faced a man like him. He leapt from the top of the stairs, pushing off of the wall to avoid the man. He landed in a crouch, running to the door. Before he could force his way out, Max reached forward, his thick hands catching Clay's arm. Yanked to a stop, Clay used the motivation to turn himself around. He unsheathed his blade, driving it forward. The tip of the steel grazed the brute's chest, but a killing blow was dodged. Clay's arm was caught and forced back. Every second he wasted battling Max, the further Raphael got. He was resourceful and could use every moment to his advantage. Clay lashed out hit after hit, and each one was useless. He hadn't fought for months, years even. He was out of practice and out of luck. Running out of options very quickly, Clay kept avoiding Max's blows while he devised up a plan. A wall was the only thing that could stop him. That's when it hit Clay. He danced backwards, Max eating up the bait. When the big man swung, Cay ducked his blow and took hold of him, throwing him into the wall. With a loud crash he rammed head first into the drywall, unable to stop himself. Taking the chance to flee the apartment buildings, Clay ran into the outside world. Out on the street, there was no Raphael or Rue.

"Which way?" Clay asked himself, looking left then right. Suddenly, a gunshot fired close by, giving off their location. Starting right, Clay sprinted down the street. Suddenly at the end, he could just make out the shadows of struggling figures. Running closer, Clay joined in the fight, knocking Raphael off balance. Rue stood there, holding her left wrist in her other hand.

"Run!" Clay ordered, pushing her along. "Quickly now!"

And so she ran, just as fast as Clay for a time before she began to slow down.

"Clay, he's getting up!" She shouted when she glanced over his shoulder. "He's up!"

"Then run faster!" And so she did for a time. However, it was plain to see she was getting tired with every step. Clay ducked down a side road, a chain link fence in their way. Not a problem, Clay figured. "There!" He yelled, pointing. Without stopping Clay jumped on the fence, climbing skilfully to the top. Rue struggled down below. He pushed himself over the fence and waited at the top for Rue, offering her his hand. She eventually crawled over and started climbing down the fence. Clay just dropped from the top, landing with a thud at the bottom. Once both were back on their feet, Clay started running again. That was until a voice called out from behind them.

"Assassin!" Raphael hissed, storming forward. Clay paused, looking over his shoulder. The Templar stopped at the bottom of the fence, staring daggers into his enemy.

"You cannot hide from me!" He shouted. "I will have the entire city looking for you. I will have you!"

Clay looked forward, starting to run forward. He motioned for Rue to follow him. Forcing her to keep running as fast as she could manage. Clay didn't take Raphael for a liar. The city would be looking for them by time the sun rose.

"Where are we going?" Rue panted, slowing to a walk. Clay didn't want to stop running now, but he decided to give her a break.

"Somewhere safe." He replied, looking over his shoulder constantly for tails. They were out in the open, walking along the street like this. They needed to hide.

"And where would that be?" She demanded. Her snappiness was quickly returning.

"I don't know." Clay told her truthfully. "Some place quiet. Out of the way." "Why don't we go back to my apartment?"

Clay shot her a look. "Back to the apartment? Really? Where you were taken?"

"All my things are there!" She complained loudly.

"Be quiet!" He snapped, looking about for any signs of people.

"But this is your problem, not mine! You're the… the Assassin. I'm not!" She was getting louder and louder. Clay stopped, grabbing her arm to stop her too.

"They do not believe you. As far as they are concerned, you just as much one of us than I am. Say goodbye to that apartment, you won't be seeing it for a while!"

Clay didn't mean to shout the way he did. He didn't mean to startle Rue or upset her either. She was only an bystander at the end of the day, suffering through this mess.

"So I'm a fugitive now, running away like I am?" Rue questioned, beginning to walk once more.

"I would say that." Said Clay. "You're just running from the biggest organization in the history of mankind, dedicated to controlling the human race."

Rue shot him a puzzled look.

"I'll explain once we're safe."

"Again, where is that?"

"Again, I don't know."

They walked in silence for a little while, until Rue spoke up again.

"I may know a place…" She started, looking to Clay. He waited for her to continue. "It's run down and empty. It's where a lot of the city's homeless go when they can't afford one of those shelter buildings. Could that work as a hiding spot?"

Clay thought it over. "How long does it take to get there?"

"Running like we were? Perhaps an half an hour, maybe more."

It sounded safe enough, the building she spoke of.

Clay replied, "Lead the way."

* * *

The old building was on its last legs. Walls were crumbling into dust, floorboards were rotting and it was very much a death trap. Clay and Rue had slithered inside, heading as deep as they could into the building. The smell was awful and made Clay's eyes water the first few minutes he walked about. Rue seemed to be immune.

"How did you know about this place?" He asked when they eventually settled down. They sat in the corner, Rue with her hood up and sleeves hanging over her hands. She was cold and so was Clay, but of all the things to worry about, the chill was not one of them.

"I just know the city. I walk around, learn my routes." She replied lowly, sounding dark in her mood. Clay lowered his head, feeling rather guilty.

"I'm sorry, if that means anything."

Rue lifted her head, shaking it. "Would you be offended if it doesn't?"

"Not really." He said.

"If you want to make me feel better," Rue started. "then explain. What the hell are you, what are they… what role do I play in all this?"

Clay was at first hesitant to tell her, but then realized that was exactly was he was going to do when this entire situation formed.

"Assassins and Templars. They've been at war for centuries. One, the Assassins, strive for peace and the wellbeing of others. Templars just want control, to form the world into what they want it to be."

"And you're an Assassin?"

Clay nodded. "I am."

"And what do the Templars want with you?" She asked, shuffling close to hear better.

"I've not played by the rules, I suppose is one way of looking at it. Done something I shouldn't have."

"What?"

"They killed me before. Well, I committed suicide, but it's more or less the same thing. I was a prisoner there, in Abstergo. It's a company run by the Templar. I was apart of this program that uses a machine to go through your head. Pick out memories of your ancestors and make you relive them. At first it was remarkable, to live as an Assassin who roamed the streets five hundred years ago. But then it got too much. My head… I couldn't take it anymore. There _was _this woman who was supposed to get me out. Lucy. She never did. So I slowly went insane. I realized then that I had to warn the next subject. Subject Seventeen. I put myself in another form inside the machine, the Animus. Then I slit my own wrists with a pen and bled out to death."

Only silence followed after Clay's explanation. It felt strange to tell somebody the story, when Clay refused to even tell it to himself. It was a while before Rue said anything.

"Then how are you here?"

"Not sure. Juno and the Apple I guess."

"The Apple?"

"A Piece of Eden. Valuable artefacts from before time."

"Before time? This is too weird… way too weird."

Clay sighed. "I'm not asking for you to believe it, but to just go with it. Your life will be much better off."

"It won't though, will it?" Rue said, shuffling in the dark. "My parents… my friends. I won't see them again. Surely these Assassins and Templars you speak of are secret. Or else I would know about them. Now that I know, you're going to keep me."

"We won't keep you a prisoner." Clay said, wondering how true his words were. "You can leave when it is safe."

"How long will that be? Can I call them? My parents, I mean. Tell them that I am going to be gone for a while?"

Clay gnawed on his lip, unsure. Rue pleaded more. "I can ask for a phone from somebody. Or whatever works. I just… I want them to know I'm okay."

"Family is not your first priority right now." Clay tried to worm her away from the idea of using cell phones.

"Please Clay?" Rue practically begged. "After all this, you owe me something!"

"It's dangerous. Abstergo is very supplied in technical devices. They could trace that call in seconds and find us."

Clay could feel her eyes dig into him. The severe guilt he felt did not help, either. He sighed, giving in.

"One call. Then you go Black." Clay was stern in his request.

"Black?"

"No more phone calls, we lay low and hide. Try to lose our tail."

Rue nodded. "Of course."

"I'm surprised you've come so willingly." Clay told her.

"I'm worried what will happen if I don't."

Clay frowned. "I'm not going to threaten you or put a gun to your head. It's just… better this way."

"I will take your word for it."

Both Clay and Rue spread out, laying on the floor. Exhaustion covered the pair, as did silence.

"What are we going to do, Clay?" Rue whispered.

Clay sighed. "The only thing we can do. We have to go to the Assassins."


	11. The Assassin's Den

**A/N: Updated this chapter at long last. Not a horrific wait, but still a wait. I just want to get as much done before school as possible. When school starts, things may slow down a bit. Depends how willing I am to do math homework. Anyway, leave a review and tell me what you think. I'd really appreciate it! **

Chapter Eleven:

Waking from a restless sleep, Clay rubbed the numbness from his jaw. As his he woke, he could hear a voice, Rue's voice echoing off the walls of the battered building. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"I'm sorry." She was saying. "I don't want to leave like this, but I have to."

Rue was sitting close by, her back facing Clay. Her voice quivered, thick with emotion.

"Dad, please, understand." A voice on the other line interrupted her. "I don't want to leave but I have to. I won't be home for a while. I promise you I will be safe. You have my word."

There was a long pause succeeding Rue's promises. Clay eyed the cellphone in her hand nervously. He wondered how long she had been on the phone and where she got the device.

"Do not pull that card on me!" She suddenly shouted. Her voice softened as she returned to her sorrowful state. "Please… just take care of mom and make up some lie. I'm taking a trip with friends or something."

Clay edged closer, his hand outstretched to touch her shoulder. He paused however, unsure if this was the right course of action.

"I can't tell you where I'm going, no. I don't even know. He'll keep me safe, he promised."

More talking on the other end. "Christmas? I don't know if I'll be home…" She paused, a sniffle escaping. "I'm sorry, I have to go. I've talked long enough."

Before her father could talk anymore, she hung up. Burying her head in her hands, Clay moved forward.

"I'm sorry-" He tied to apologize, but Rue sent him into silence by throwing the phone halfway across the room.

"This is your fault!" She yelled. "You can't process the misery I've put myself in, my mother, father too. You don't understand!"

She buried her head in her hands, sucking in a breath. Rue picked up her head, biting on lip.

"You don't understand. This is normal procedure for you, I bet. Just killing people…. Murdering them." Her bitterness quickly transformed into hate.

"I know you didn't ask for this." Clay told her when Rue had settled down into a suffering silence. "I wasn't thinking properly. I didn't think that they would find me, I honestly didn't."

"I don't believe any of this." Rue said, more to herself. A look of incredulity took over her face. "I can't… the Asssassins, Templars, these apples you speak of. It's not true, it can't be true. I'm probably going to die now. I've been tricked into… something!" Clay let her ramble on. It was the shock of it all, he decided, hoping that Rue would get over it soon. Escaping the city with an angry, delusional woman was going to be difficult.

Retrieving the phone, Clay went back to his spot and fiddled with the buttons.

"Where did you get this from?" When he spoke, the younger woman sent daggers his way. Talking wouldn't be an option. Pressing in numbers, Clay dialled the old number, wondering if it would still be online. When a man on the other side answered, Clay spoke his orders.

"Send a runner down to Chicago's lower district. We're going to need some help getting out of this mess."

"So you have returned." William Miles greeted. Clay imagined him to be silently smug.

"Just send a field agent."

William chuckled. "With pleasure."

The line went dead after that.

* * *

"Should we be out here?" Rue asked as she looked around nervously. She kept her voice low and her head bent, over thinking the situation entirely.

"Just act as anyone else would, and we should be fine." Clay told her in response. They waited for the field agent on the edge of the busy main street, the agreed location. The spot Clay had chosen was normal enough. A bus stop rested a few meters away, though the bus had wasn't due for another two hours.

Rue's head snapped up. "Should?"

"There's a chance Raphael is still looking." Clay hoped he had given up the search, but knowing the Templar Order, they would look and strip apart the city until they found what they were looking for. He only hoped for Rue's sake that he had taken a pause. Clay doubt she could handle another mad dash about Chicago.

"Who are we looking for?" She asked, scanning the faces of people who went about their business.

"We'll know." He said. "Well, I'll know."

"We've been here for hours." She sighed, leaning back against the wall. She brushed off some dirt and dust from her jacket, opening her mouth to speak again.

"Shut up." Clay sighed. "Please?"

Rue's shoulders sagged and she fell silent. Clay didn't want to talk about the Templar, or even to think about it. Their aid was on its way and it wouldn't do much good to jinx it now.

"Where did you get that phone?" Clay asked, a question that had been lingering in the back of his mind. Rue looked up to him. "I'd rather not say."

He couldn't help but crack a smile at that.

"Seriously though, hours." Rue said. Clay huffed in annoyance, ignoring her. Patience was not one of her strong point. In fact, it could be argued if she had any patience at all. She slid down the wall until she sat, tipping her head back.

"Get up." Clay nudged her with his foot. "That's not exactly inconspicuous."

"What?" Rue's jaw hung open, a wounded expression on her face. "I can't even sit down?"

"No. Now stand up."

"I hate this." She grumbled, yanking her black sleeves past her elbows. She folded her arms, scowling deeply. Though Clay wanted to tell her to drop the scowl, he realized Rue's scowl wasn't going to leave her face easily.

_She doesn't realize the danger she is in_, Clay thought with a sigh. It was as though this was a game to her. Her tears seemed real enough, Clay reminded himself.

"Your dad, Michael." He began, pushing onward to edgy topics. "What did you tell him exactly?"

"Nothing really. Just that I was going somewhere."

"And he questioned you about it? Why?"

Rue rolled her eyes, amused by Clay's apparent ignorance. "I haven't left my apartment for years. Wasting my life away behind those walls and now I'm suddenly leaving to a place where even I don't know where it is?" "Denver." Clay said, wishing he hadn't the second the city left his mouth.

"Denver?" Rue seemed surprised. "What's in Denver?"

The Assassin looked away, refusing to answer directly. He knew spiders and birds could be lurking anywhere, reading to report back to their master. It wasn't uncommon for the Templars to return to measures like those.

"How much longer?" Rue asked quietly.

Clay didn't look at her. "A few more hours maybe."

Rue snorted then, bringing his attention back to the black haired woman. "Standing here for more than three hours is not inconspicuous?"

Clay realized she was right.

"Let's go for a walk then."

They circled the block a few times, both happy to stretch their legs. Rue complained further, causing Clay to tune her out. She could be useful when she wanted, but it seemed those times had faded away. He wasn't too annoyed. She was only acting like the rest of the people standing around them. Once they had completed the circuit, they stopped at the corner of the street, waiting.

"You know that bus doesn't run anymore?" Said a voice. Clay turned his head to spy a younger looking man. To anyone else, he would be just another person walking the streets. Clay could see what he really was: an Assassin.

"Perhaps you could help?" Clay asked, standing up fully. The young man offered Clay his hand. His white jacket's sleeve lifted up enough to reveal the ancient weapon of the Assassins. The Hidden Blade. Clay took it, somewhat unwillingly and gestured to Rue.

"She's not one of us, but she's coming."

"Is she now?" The man asked. He was about the same age as Clay, late twenties to early thirties. He wore his dark brown hair short. Along with his white hood jacket and grey shirt underneath, he had simple jeans, making him yet another face in the crowd.

Rue's face was not a friendly one as she examined the Assassin.

"Don't worry." said the white hood. "She can come too."

Clearly displeased with his mocking tone, Rue turned away from him.

"I'm Xavier." He said, talking to Clay once more.

"I would introduce myself, but I am sure you already know who I am."

"Cocky." Rue muttered under her breath, earning an elbow.

Xavier nodded. "Oh yes, I know who you are. The infamous Subject Sixteen. Clay Kaczmarek. Only question is… how are you walking?"

"I'll answer once we reach base." Xavier seemed disappointed, but started leading the way through the streets.

"And what's your name, woman who is clearly confused."

"Rue." She replied, glaring at Clay when he took a glance at her. Xavier didn't even do that. He kept his eyes locked ahead..

"Is that short for something?"

"Rowan."

Xavier snickered, earning a devilish look from the woman he taunted. "Hated as a child?"

Rue gave a half-sarcastic reply. "Yeah, right on the money."

Clay went to Xavier's side, leaving Rue behind. "How are we getting to Denver?"

"Very clever." Xavier looked to Clay. "We're driving. Planes require too many documents, not to mention documents we can't forge."

Of course, Rue found a problem in that. "That's a fifteen hour drive!"

"Do you want to live or have Raphael skin you alive?"

"You know about him too?" Rue was surprised.

Only now did Xavier look over his shoulder to Rue. "I'm an Assassin, princess. Get with the script."

"Call me princess one more time and I'll-"

"Rue." Clay called her name. She looked to him, not impressed. "Just go with it, alright?"

Sulking, she buried her hands in her pockets, bending her head downwards.

"William gave me an Audi." Xavier suddenly said, switching topics. "Great speed on it. I'm glad I was chosen for rescue duty."

Clay did not reply and instead fell into silence, following Xavier to freedom.

"When did they start rebuilding Denver Branch after the Purge?" Clay asked.

"About a month or two ago." Xavier replied. "Took a while. The Order was taking hits all over the place. Moscow is the only place where it's safe, and even then there's been some trouble stirring. Lucky Russians. They get it easy."

Clay thought about what Xavier had said, trying to piece together what had happened after his death.

"I'll tell you more once we're on the road. There are too many eager ears out here."

Agreeing, the trio walked on.

* * *

The process of driving out of the city was slow and painful. With each passing second, Clay wanted to be gone. To be safe even for a little while, to allow him time to gather his thoughts. Rue was quite the opposite. She didn't want to leave the city. She was much happier inside her comfort zone. Eventually out on the highway, the car drove west for Colorado. It was silent for hours after their departure, until Xavier broke the ice that had formed.

"The girl?" He questioned, gesturing to Rue who had fallen asleep in the back of the car.

"She got in the way. My fault." Clay told him.

"What are you going to do with her? She can't stay."

"I know she can't stay. But I promised her safety, and I hope that your Branch Leader can see that too."

"Did you know that William came down from New York to meet you at Denver?"

"Did he now?" Clay didn't like the sound of that.

Xavier confirmed with a nod. "All the Assassins are intrigued on what you have to say." "I fear they will be disappointed." He sighed, leaning on a propped elbow.

Xavier shot him a look. "Why?

"I don't know what happened, that's why."

"That's not good. Something remarkable has happened and there's no explanation?"

Clay sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. No, it wasn't good and he'd have to face the storm soon enough.

* * *

The Assassin's Den in Denver was tucked away in the back roads of the city, consisting of a large house and various cabins around it. The half a day journey had seen them in Denver in only thirteen hours.

"Welcome." Said Xavier as the three stepped inside the large building. Inside was as to be expected from a safe house. Sofas, tables, books lining shelves. Nothing screamed 'murderers' to Rue, and she looked somewhat disappointed by the fact. It was silent inside, with only two figures standing inside the first, open room.

"Xavier." Greeted one man, who leaned in the doorframe. Xavier nodded in return and said, "Tell the boss man that he's here."

The large man quickly disappeared.

"Why do they all wear white?" Rue whispered to Clay when they came to a standstill in the middle of the room, her curiosity taking over.

"An informal uniform." Was what Clay replied with. "Tradition, really."

Before Rue could ponder anymore, Xavier called out to a blonde woman on the other side of the room.

"Sarah! Come take Rue here. You know what to do."

Hearing her name, the black haired woman looked up to Clay frightfully. He put a hand on her shoulder and directed her towards Sarah, who walked over.

"She doesn't bite." The Assassin beside Clay told her. Giving Xavier one more stern look before she was lead away, Rue disappeared around the corner.

"You could have chosen better words." Clay told the snickering man.

Xavier only shook his head, chuckling. The unnamed Assassin suddenly poked his head around the corner.

"William wants to see you." He said, looking at Clay directly. Standing, Clay brushed off the last bits of dirt from his jeans.

"Don't worry, you look pretty."

Clay ignored the jest from the field agent behind him and started for William Miles.

Following the Assassin further into the safe house, he was stopped at a door. Knocking, Clay could hear William call for his entry. Sighing silently, he entered through the door. William looked the same as ever. Same brown jacket, same angry looking face, same black hair.

"Clay. It's been too long." William said, standing from the black leather chair he was sitting in. Clay nodded.

"Very long time."

"I never thought I would see you again… with your death and all…"

"I don't know how it happened." Clay said, sitting when William did. "I just… it was like I woke from my grave. I don't understand. She said that I had a second chance-"

"Who said?"

"Juno."

William's face contorted into a fierce look. "What did she say? Exactly what did she say?"

Clay tried to bring back her words, but couldn't. "I don't remember."

"Don't tell me that you don't remember, Clay."

"I'm sorry-"

"Think!" He growled, sitting straight in his chair. "From the second you woke up to now, tell me what happened. How did Raphael get mixed into this?"

Clay began to tell his tale, pausing when details were faint. His story took a while to tell, as heard by the constant ticking of the clock that hung on the wall. When Clay finished, neither said anything more on the matter. Minutes passed until another word was spoken.

"Clay, I'm sorry about Lucy. If I had known-"

Clay's hand flashed up, indicating silence. "I don't want to hear it."

Understanding, William motioned towards the door, granting leave. "You're free to go."

Clay made his way back to the large entry hall. He saw Rue standing with Sarah, chatting lowly to her. She paused however when she saw Clay approach.

"What's up?" He asked when he saw a small bag hanging off of Rue's shoulder.

"I wanted to say goodbye." She replied, fiddling with the bag's strap.

"Goodbye?" Clay didn't understand.

"As apart of the arrangement, I can leave now as long as I lend my skills when needed."

Clay frowned. "What arrangement?"

"I can home, Clay. I don't have to be apart of this anymore. They said I would be safe if I go back to Canada. They're taking me back to Chicago to grab my passport and things before they take me back. All I have to do is break computers when they need me."

Though Rue was happy, Clay couldn't say he was.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Rue nodded. "Of course. This isn't my home, Clay. This isn't my life, it's yours. Come visit if you like, Canada's filled with nice people."

"Alright." Clay almost felt wounded. "Be careful in Chicago."

"I've got Sarah at my side, I'm sure she can handle the danger."

"I'm glad to see you've made friends." Clay said, managing to earn a smile from Rue's mouth.

"I suppose we should get going." said Rue, waving goodbye. She lingered a little longer, however. Clay gave her a quick, one armed hug as his final goodbye. Now that she was content, she started her journey back home. He watched as the Assassin and the hacker girl left the safe house, Rue flashing Clay one last overly-confident smirk.

"I'm going to miss taunting her. The hours go by too fast."

Clay smiled a bit at Xavier's words. "So who was it who got rid of her? William or you?"

"William. He didn't want any liabilities."

"Yet her let her go so soon? I expected her hear a month or two before she was released."

"She'll keep quiet. Besides, she was hooked when Sarah showed her our computers. A simple being… how did you put up with her?"

"I managed." Clay sighed, running his fingers through his hair. It was much for the best, to have Rue away from Raphael and the Assassins and Templars. She wasn't built for this world like others and it would only consume her over time. Much like himself, Clay realized.

"There's a bed with your name on it." Xavier said before walking away to leave Clay with his own company. As Clay himself began to head deeper into the safe house, he realized that William had gotten what he wanted after all.

Subject Sixteen was an Assassin once more.


	12. Weasel

**A/N: Bit of a filler, but here is the next Clay chapter! I really appreciate the reviews you all leave, and your opinions really help drive the direction of this story. **

Chapter Twelve:

Though he tried, Clay couldn't sleep that night. Whether it was his racing thoughts or the unfamiliarity of the room, Clay just couldn't relax himself enough to rest. Early the morning he left his bedroom. He wandered the empty halls, exploring the Denver den. He came across few people, and when he did they didn't as much bat an eye towards him. Clay didn't want to admit it, but he was confused as to why they didn't stare. After all, wasn't he the Assassin who had died? He wondered how many of the Assassin's knew of him, the infamous Subject Sixteen.

Those hours wandering the halls soon lost its interest, and Clay found himself sitting in the same room that he had said goodbye to Rue. He rested his head against a propped up arm, his thoughts beginning to thicken into a jumbled mess.

"What did the boss have to say?" A sudden voice startled Clay. Head whipping around to see who the intruder was, he calmed some when he saw Xavier. He stepped forward, gesturing to a chair opposite Clay's. Giving him leave to take the spot, Clay rubbed his strained eyes.

"Not much." He replied with a sigh. Lifting his head, he caught Xavier's gaze. "Any news on Rue?"

"Sarah radioed in. They're on their way to the Canadian border. Once they're in the north, they're reasonably safe from Templar eyes."

"Reasonably?"

"There has been word of a new Abstergo building, set up in Montreal."  
Xavier put a hand on Clay's arm, a signal to calm his fears. "Sarah is a good Assassin. A trustworthy woman. Rue will make it home. Toronto is far enough away."

"Still. You don't know Rue like I do. She's immune to the sense of danger."

The Assassin chuckled slightly, leaning back into his chair. "So. What are the plans for you then?"

Clay shrugged, not entirely sure himself. "I suppose I'll stay here in Denver. What else can I do?"

"Nothing, really. Maybe William will allow you to join our ranks again. Send you out on some missions."

"I don't think I want that." Clay decided. "I'm done with it."

"If you're staying as an Assassin, what do you think you're going to do? Act as our mascot?" Xavier's humour was sarcastic, if not bitter.

Clay took his words into consideration. Could he restart again, this time wary of Templar eyes? It was highly unlikely. Raphael wasn't the only Templar agent looking for him, he figured. There must be more.

"Besides." Xavier continued. "You're a good man to have on the team. Look at what you've done…"

"I got myself killed."

Xavier grimaced. "Well, technically… yes, but all for good reason. And now that we have you back, maybe we can bring others back too. Maybe even Hannah and the rest of the Denver team… before they were slaughtered."

"You knew Hannah?" The name rung only the faintest of bells for Clay.

"Yeah. Even though I wasn't apart of Denver, I ran a small team in Arizona. She came for a visit once…"

"Did you…?" A curious Clay asked, allowing his own sentence to trail off.

Understanding, Xavier shook his head. "Oh! No. We weren't together at all. She was just a good person. They all were. I lost my own team to Templar elimination. We lost a lot of men that way."

"And that's why you try and recruit as many as you can."

Xavier nodded. "Now you understand."

"I do."

"So will you join us again, Clay?"

"No."

The Assassin seemed wounded, even surprised. Even after his story he still didn't have Clay in his hands.

"I refuse to be in the field again." Clay put his foot down.

"We need more agents!" Xavier growled, his chest puffed out and his face a scowl. "We lose more each day, surely even you can sacrifice your time to help us. To help your family! You're an Assassin too, or have you forgotten."

"How can I forget?" Clay said defensively. "I am always being reminded."

Before Xavier could retaliate to what Clay had said, another Assassin walked into the room. The same dark skinned Assassin who had fetched Clay yesterday appeared in the room.

"William wants you in tech, Clay." He said. Being summoned yet again, Clay stood from his chair, leaving an infuriated Xavier behind.

He made his way down the hall, entering through a door that the large man said would lead him to William. Inside was dark besides the lit up computer monitors that littered the room. Clay easily spotted William Miles, leaning over a woman's shoulder, pointing to a screen. He approached the two slowly.

"You called for me?" He voiced, gaining the attention of the older Assassin.

"Yes…." He mused, eyes never once leaving the screen. He moved over, allowing Clay room to peer at the monitor. "Do you know who this man is?"

Looking to the screen, he saw a man's profile. Reading the details on the side, it was easily summed up that the man was of average build. Approximately thirty-six years old, he had a slim face, covered by a scruffy black beard and cold brown eyes.

"I've never seen him before." Clay said, glancing to William who swore under his breath.

"I hoped that you had." He rose, ordering for the girl to close the profile.

"Who is he?"

"Name unknown. Weasel we call him. He's one of Raphael's group."

"There's more of them?" Even Clay didn't like that.

"Many more." William said.

"Why do you call him Weasel?"

The girl at the computer replied, "Because he can squirm into any place and kill without a trace. He is one of the best killers the Templar Order has."

"Sounds more like rat."

"Not to mention Weasel's can steal anything out from under your nose." William imputed. "He's been targeting our systems. Deleting all the files he can find about the Templars."

"What happened to good old pen and paper?" Clay asked. Not enjoying his sarcasm, William sent him a hard glare. William moved away from the computer, putting a hand on Clay's shoulder to direct him towards the door.

"We need to talk." He said. Those words worried Clay, but he did not object.

"About?" He dared to ask. William avoided a straight answer, walking off down the hall.

"I believe that you are indecisive about rejoining our ranks." The leader of the Italian branch voiced, walking straight as a pole, his hands joined behind his back. Clay nearly questioned how he received his information, but he had a sneaking suspicion that William had ears all around. He was in a place filled with Assassins after all.

"What happened in Abstergo, Clay. That won't happen again."

Clay's brows furrowed together, his jaw set. "Because you've sent your son to be the next Subject."

William turned sharp on his heels, shoving Clay up inst the wall. "They took him from me! You know nothing!" He roared, his fingers intertwined in Clay's shirt. Pushing against William's shoulder, Clay pried him away from his body.

"I know."

Adjusting his jacket and regaining his composure, he continued stiffly down the hall. Clay followed behind him carefully, never before seeing the Assassin lash out.

"You need to return to us." William continued after a few moments, back to his solemn state.

"So I have been told." He said. "Xavier was hell bent on convincing me to come back. Was that your idea?"

William cocked his head, a brow risen. "Xavier talked to you?"

"Yes. You seem surprised."

"That's because I am." William replied. "I did not tell him to talk to you."

"Well. I suppose I'm just a popular guy."

The duo stopped in front of the brown oak door that lead into William's office. He opened the door and motioned for Clay to head inside. Stuck in the same situation as yesterday, Clay reluctantly entered and took a seat in a leather armchair.

"So both you and Xavier want me back. His reasoning was the low numbers. What's yours?"

William sat behind his desk, opening up a laptop. With his eyes scanning the screen, he gave his answer. One that Clay should have guessed.

"The answer as to how you are still alive still eludes us, and I refuse to let this lead go."

"Lead?"

William passed answering the question, moving onwards.

"Besides." He leaned backwards in his chair, joining his hands together. It was as though he was relaxed, like he had already won the argument. "Raphael still lurks the streets does he not? He endangered the life of that girl, that friend of yours. You are willing to forgive him? Hold his hand and help him destroy our ranks piece by piece?"

Clay sat up, folding his arms across his chest, staying silent.

"Exactly. I'd give him to you. I would let you take the contract for yourself."

Though it was tempting Clay, there was still a reluctance in the back of his mind.

"You belong with the Assassins, Clay. You knew that when you joined us in 2007."

"Too many things has happened since-"

"What do you want, a normal life? What stands for you there except a mundane existence? You serve a purpose here. Is it your experience at Abstergo? Is that what holds you back?"

"No-"

"Then what is it?" He shouted, voice bouncing off of the walls. He stood, leaning over the desk.

"Do you really want me to come back?"

"Yes!"

"Fine!"

The shouting calmed, leaving two men: one flustered and the other victorious. Clay stood without dismissal, slamming the wooden door shut behind him. Pushing past men and women in white jackets, Clay stormed to his room, the one place where he could comprehend his thoughts. However, one barricade stood in his way.

"I heard yelling." Xavier came up behind, putting a hand on Clay's shoulder. He shook him off, sending him a crisp look. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, things are fine. Brilliant, fantastic!" Clay growled.

"Is that sarcasm?" Xavier replied sarcastically himself. Clay pushed past him, putting a hand on the door handle. Before he could turn it and lock himself away before he strangled a man, the younger Assassin grabbed the handle.

"You won't regret it. Raphael is a dangerous man and he deserves to die."  
"And I'm the perfect man for that, am I?" Clay asked. Xavier sighed and took a step backwards, allowing Clay to leave to his bedroom. He stepped inside, taking a seat on the corner of his bed. He buried his head in his hands, releasing a groan. It seemed there really was no escape from this world of his. Both the Templar and the Assassins themselves wanted Clay. Now the question was which side was more desperate to have answers?


End file.
